


alien blues

by nullgrl



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Bobby, Composer Kim Hanbin | B.I, Deepthroating, Drummer Kim Jiwon | Bobby, Fingerfucking, Fluff, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Riding, Rimming, UCLA, bobby really likes to rile hanbin up, he sings in the band too, underground indie bands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25986805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nullgrl/pseuds/nullgrl
Summary: Hanbin may or may not be a little in love with their new drummer. Also, he hates his friends.
Relationships: Kim Hanbin | B.I/Kim Jiwon | Bobby
Comments: 151
Kudos: 143





	1. chapter the first

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be much shorter but things got out of hand, haha.
> 
> dummer bobby is way too underrated and the idea of hanbin being low-key whipped for bobby that he shows it through banter was hard to resist. you can blame them for how long this is turning out. 
> 
> also i made a [playlist!](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLshMPclMGRqXHhJpkTyvlMLvI8JWGaEUG) for this

“I can’t believe Jaewon bailed on us at last minute,” Hanbin is fuming as he shoves his laptop into his backpack.

The glow of the yellow lights that hung high on the ceiling bathe the studio room in a mellow wash of color. It was usually soothing, calming Hanbin down when he was feeling especially anxious because of deadlines or when he hit an artist block. But right now, he’s fuming, becoming irritated with the lack of clear light as he haphazardly threw his music sheet into his bag.

Besides him, sitting across the room on the generic blue couch that the college has in each student studio, is Jinhwan. There’s a displeased little frown on his face, but he’s quiet about his resentment. That’s a big difference between them, unless Hanbin is seriously about to blow, he usually shows his anger through harsh words and exaggerated movements of his hands.

“It wasn’t because he wanted to,” Jinhwan says, though that doesn’t change the fact that he looks annoyed. “He didn’t think he’d get accepted into the program so he didn’t tell us.”

Jinhwan is partially right. Jaewon signed up for a study abroad program in London for his theatre minor he was taking. He never told Hanbin or any of the guys about it though, thinking that he wasn’t going to get the scholarship or accepted into the university abroad. But he did. And now Jaewon was leaving in a week, the spring semester about to start.

“Where are we even going to get a new drummer who also happens to sing? Fuck you, Jaewon!”

Hanbin doesn’t fully mean it. He’s just angry that his best friend and the same guy who happens to be their drummer in their indie band has dropped them off. Just when they were about to start planning out their first full length album after releasing an EP last summer.

Jinhwan sighs, getting up from the couch as the two of them leave the studio room and walk through the dark hallway of the empty music building. The only lights that filter in are the orange bulbs looming at the back of Royce Hall near the glass double doors that lead to the backside of the building.

“We can look around, I’ll ask Donghyuk if he knows anyone.” There’s a grimace on his face as he says that though, cheeks flushing a light pink when the cold winter air of mid-January nips their skin. It’s hard to find a drummer who will dedicate themselves to their band _and_ also fit their specific aesthetic. Seems almost impossible to find someone. “At least we don’t have any gigs until the mid-February.”

It’s muttered between their silence. The sun is beginning to set into the horizon making the sky turn a dark purple color that softly blends with the evening blue of the night sky. Hanbin stuffs his hands into his hoodie pockets, wondering how the hell they’re supposed to get a new member into their band by the end of January so they can start practicing and also replace the Jaewon shaped hole in their group.

“Don’t worry,” Jinhwan finally says as they wait in front of the bus stop. From the end of the road they can see the bus rolling loudly through the relatively empty street. There are less people out now that the evening is setting in, but Hanbin is sure that by ten the whole place will combust with the radiant energy of college students going to clubs, bars, or restaurants.

“We’ll find someone new by the end of the month.”

Hanbin grunts, he hopes so.

It’s the final weekend of winter break. And as per tradition of most college students that attend UCLA and have good connections, there is a party thrown at the frat house that is on the opposite side of the city where the houses are looming and daunting with perfect rose bushes and luxury cars lining up the driveway. Hanbin hadn’t really wanted to join Junhoe or Yunhyeong (who were the ones that always dragged him to “socialize”) for the party, but he was in the mood for getting shitfaced drunk so he could stop stressing out about who would be their replacement drummer.

Jaewon would be leaving tomorrow in the evening and their band had agreed on throwing him a goodbye party Sunday afternoon before he left for the spring semester and most of the summer. Hanbin twisted his features, feeling annoyance bubble underneath his skin when he thought about Jaewon leaving.

The party was packed with frat boys, sorority girls, and more of the popular student population from their campus. Junhoe and Yunhyeong had abandoned him as soon as they’d stepped through the large wooden double doors of the frat house. Hanbin didn’t really care much about it because he was here for the alcohol and dancing, not searching for a pretty girl to hang off his shoulder or a ripped guy that would grind against his body. All Junhoe and Yunhyeong thought about was sex and music. In Hanbin’s personal opinion: it was sad.

A loud hip-hop song was blasting through what must have been the living room but had been turned into the dance floor of the evening. The living room was colored in a wash of dark blue and brilliant red hues from the lights that strung around the high ceilings and led colors flashing through the corners of the room. It made the place seem like a makeshift club dance floor, grinding bodies and pretty girls kissing their friends through sloppy lips.

Hanbin caught sight of Jinhwan – who had left earlier in his SUV to pick up his friends for the party – leaning against the wall with a Styrofoam cup in hand that was probably filled with alcohol. He was talking to a group of people who Hanbin couldn’t see through the dark lighting or the bodies that would stumble into his view. The kitchen was adjacent to the living room which was less packed than the common area but people were mingling around smoking cigarettes and playing beer pong.

Donghyuk and Chanwoo were playing against two girls who Hanbin faintly recognized as girls from the division below his mixing and producing major. Chanwoo caught sight of him, waving an enthusiastic arm and giggling with flushed cheeks. He made no move to follow Hanbin though, drunk as he was leaning against Donghyuk who kept whining for missing the cups. Hanbin narrowed his eyes and sent Chanwoo a warning glare, Chanwoo gulped down the rest of his drink as a response.

It was a familiar scene for Hanbin. They were friends alright, most of them knew each other from their high school days, but when they were out in public they didn’t always make it a point in sticking to each other like peas in a pod. Enough of their time was spent in the studio room of the campus or at Jinhwan’s and Hanbin’s house that they rented nearby campus. So Hanbin waved back and maneuvered through a group of students until he reached the counter that was filled with alcohol bottles.

There was a huge tub of what looked to be jungle juice centered on the marble kitchen island, but the last time Hanbin had drank some it’d been laced with a liquid drug and Hanbin had been in and out of it for a week before Jinhwan nursed him back to his reasonable state of mind.

Due to those traumatic four days of his life, he avoided going anywhere near the tub and instead took a bottle of cold Vodka from the ice chest. It wasn’t like anyone was keeping count on the number of bottles going missing, Hanbin thought he deserved the right to get drunk and freefall into the crowd of dancing bodies.

Three hours later and he’s laughing with an also very drunk Junhoe by his side. They’re on their third bottle of alcohol, this time drinking from a large bottle of coconut rum. It was rather sugary, but helped Hanbin’s swaying mind from getting too drunk. Or at least that’s what he used as an excuse, at this point all alcohol was tasting like water to his taste buds. It was well into the early hours of morning, probably past three and the party didn’t seem like it’d end anytime soon.

There were girls in front who danced alongside them, their eyes hazy from the alcohol. The room was foggy with streaks of cigarette smoke and it smelt like sweet, sugary smoke from those who were vaping in the corners. Junhoe kept flirting and smirking at one of the girls, purposefully thrusting his hips and biting his lips as he winked at her. Hanbin snorted, leaving Junhoe there with the girl to keep him company. He didn’t really enjoy the idea of staying around for when they started making out without any shame in public.

He took the bottle of coconut rum with him, half empty in its content as he moved away from the bass of an R&B song that echoed through the walls. Outside the air was clean, but smelt like nicotine and chlorine that vapored from the lit pool. A few people were mingling around the edges of the pool, their feet dangling in the heated water despite it being the middle of January and the cold air.

Hanbin was way into getting black out drunk, the corners of his vision becoming blurry. He had to blink a few times as he carefully stumbled over the steps of the porch and made his way to where he saw Chanwoo slumped over a chair.

“Hey,” Hanbin kicked Chanwoo’s leg where it dangled over the edge of the chair.

Chanwoo grunted in response, eyes blinking tiredly.

“Where’s Donghyuk?”

The younger boy shrugged, “Left a while ago with some guy.”

Ahh, made sense. Hanbin took a swig from the sweet rum, handing it to Chanwoo who shook his head and lolled his head to the side. He took a seat on the pool lounger, the fabric cool against the bit of skin that peeked out from where his hoodie rose up.

The two of them sat there, bodies soft and pliant from the alcohol they’d drank. Hanbin should have eaten something more besides the meal from _Wingstop_ Yunhyeong had bought him earlier in the evening last night. His head was hazy and it felt like he was floating through the infinite dimensions of earth’s reality, _shit_ – the hangover was going to be a bitch later in the afternoon. The sky above was littered with dark clouds of pollution that obscured the light of the stars, it was only the crescent moon that lit the backyard with noisy college students in cool, pale colors.

He was getting cold and the bottle of coconut rum was running low. Maybe Hanbin should find Yunhyeong and call it a night, them and Junhoe had driven to the house in an uber since no one wanted to be DD that night, but Hanbin was way too lazy to search for his cousin and if he texted him the older boy probably wouldn’t even see it.

“I’m off man, want to come home with me?” Hanbin’s words slurred together in an odd sentence, he was surprised that Chanwoo understood what he said. The youngest of them nodded, getting up and sluggishly walking through the tall fence gates of the house. Hanbin followed behind him, taking a final swig of the coconut rum before throwing out the bit of liquid left in the bottle over the bushes lining the house.

There was a black trash bin hidden in the shadows of the corners of the house, Hanbin lifted the lid and threw in the bottle. He tossed the hood of his oversized hoodie over his hair, the cold wind catching onto the skin of his ears and painting them a crimson color. Chanwoo looked like he was going to tumble over with the harshness of the wind, it made Hanbin snicker as he helped the drunk boy lean against him while he got them the uber.

Even though there was a high possibility Yunhyeong wasn’t going to check his phone, Hanbin still sent him a message. The uber didn’t take long to reach them, a man in his late forties stopping by the curb of the house and sending them a polite smile. Hanbin struggled with helping Chanwoo slide into his seat and buckling his seatbelt, murmuring under his breath about how Chanwoo should be forbidden from drinking too much alcohol if he was acting this out of it.

Hanbin fought the urge to fall asleep in the car. He was nowhere near sober enough after drinking alcohol for three hours straight with no water or snack breaks. The music the man played was some generic pop song, a lot softer than he was used to listening. Maybe because he was drunk but the voice of the female singer lulled him into small restful moments of sleep. He always shook himself awake though, Chanwoo next to him snoring and drooling all over his sweater.

Lights of neon signs from clubs and dimly lit restaurants shined through the window, coloring Hanbin in different shades of blue and purple. There was a hum constantly rotating in his mind, some new beat he itched to write down. But it was too organic, not ripe enough for Hanbin to put down on paper yet. He closed his eyes, pushing the vibration of the rhythm out of his observance.

Jinhwan and him lived a few minutes away from the university in a house that was big enough for their group to hang out and have small get togethers, but smaller than other houses in their neighborhood since it was all they could afford being the college students they were.

Hanbin was in his second year of college, working virtually with a company in New York where he’d send his music and got paid well enough to help pay the rent. His parents made good money too, constantly sending him large sums that Hanbin would put aside and rarely use. The rest of the money he made came from gigs he and the band did, they were well enough known that most of their small shows usually attracted a good amount of people and there was always some club or event that wanted them to play.

Jinhwan was in his final year of school. Majoring as a vocal and was going to graduate this coming end of the year. They’d both gotten to know each other after they were enrolled in the same piano classes at the age of ten. Jinhwan, Jaewon, and him had dreams of becoming idols in South Korea like _Big Bang_ or something, but after hearing some of the experiences of past trainees or idols whose bands were disbanded they’d decided that course of life just wasn’t for them.

Jaewon and Hanbin had known each other since birth, when they would waddle around in nothing but their diapers and babbling nonsense. They both shared the same love for music and artists like _Gorillaz_ and _Depeche Mode,_ and then later bands like _Vundabar_ and _The Buttertones._ Together they used to watch youtube videos online, begging their parents for a guitar, and learning the correct chords to pluck. He had been the one with the idea of making a band, now he was the first one leaving.

Hanbin pouted and slipped further in his seat, closing his eyes and thinking about something else that wasn’t Jaewon leaving. He was too drunk and sure that if he thought any longer about it he’d burst into tears inside the uber and freak the poor driver out.

In high school they befriended Junhoe and Donghyuk, giving birth to their indie band _Alien Blues_. It wasn’t called _Alien Blues_ when they started to do covers of songs, they didn’t have much of a name, doing it mostly for fun. But after Jinhwan graduated from high school and started attending UCLA things changed for them. Jinhwan went with a bachelor’s in music for his vocal classes and suddenly things became serious.

Jinhwan thought it’d be better for them to get some experience in music for college, it wouldn’t look too bad if they had some recognition under their belts. Even though Donghyuk and Junhoe weren’t majoring as music majors, it seem like a good idea for them to participate as members of an indie band since they were under the fine arts college too. When Hanbin got accepted into the university he chased after Composing and Mixing, and found himself making better music with Jaewon by his side helping him out.

It was the five of them for a while before Hanbin got Chanwoo to join and then Yunhyeong. Chanwoo was a kid Hanbin use to teach piano when the boy was in middle school and Hanbin was in his sophomore year of high school, working for some money so he could buy equipment for music.

He hated the idea of relying fully on his parents and to prove them wrong that music could take him places. They wanted him to go into the business field but when they saw how hard working Hanbin was and his passion for music they began supporting him. When Chanwoo was a senior in high school, just before graduating, Hanbin asked him to officially join since Chanwoo was great at playing double bass.

Yunhyeong was Hanbin’s older and only male cousin, so he was there alongside Jinhwan, Jaewon, and him when they started to make their first few recordings with the cheap microphone Hanbin bought online through ebay. Technically speaking, Yunhyeong wasn’t an official member of their band. He wasn’t interested in making music or singing, just there for moral support at Hanbin’s house where they would practice in his garage drinking fruit punch Kool-Aid and eating pizza.

It wasn’t until they officially became _Alien Blues_ when Jinhwan got into UCLA that Yunhyeong thought someone should manage them. Yunhyeong was good at that, he was such a perfectionist at everything and an overachiever. Graduated in top 10, full ride scholarship to any choice of university in the state of California, was accepted into ivy league universities like Yale, Duke, and Harvard.

He was smart, good at strategizing how to properly market them on social media, and was also a social butterfly that knew everyone and everyone liked. His charismatic personality charmed people enough that he was the one to get them their first gig at an indie club called Soho Lounge in downtown LA. They were a hit after that, and in their current present had a good following of 49.8K followers on their Instagram, 12.9K on twitter, and their music videos were in the hundred thousand view count.

Their little group became bigger and also more well-known around Westwood Village thanks to Yunhyeong and their unique sense of style, fashion, and aesthetics. Jaewon helped Hanbin out with their music, he was Hanbin’s rock since he understood the process of mixing and producing better than Jinhwan did. But now, Jaewon was off to London. Hanbin found himself once again glowering in the car, hiccupping and cursing Jaewon off in Korean and English.

They made the turn to his neighborhood, Jinhwan’s car was nowhere to be seen parked in their driveway. The older man was probably going to stay the night with Yunhyeong or something. Hanbin thanked the driver and pulled out a too heavy Chanwoo from the back seat. He grunted as he practically carried the taller boy, out of breath when he got to the front door and slipped the keys in to open it.

Warm air and Jinhwan’s blueberry scented candles greet Hanbin. “C’mon buddy, lift your feet up.” Chanwoo gurgles words that Hanbin is sure don’t even exist in the English language, but at least he cooperates and even takes his shoes off near the front door. Cookie, their cat with black spots and white silky fur, pops his head up to glare at them both before cuddling back into his favorite pillow.

“Sup man,” Hanbin throws the cat a peace sign. Because he’s a good friend and doesn’t want Chanwoo to sleep on their too soft couch that leaves horrible aches of back pain he takes him to Jinhwan’s room. He hopes the older does end up staying somewhere else tonight, Hanbin doesn’t want to get an earful because Chanwoo accidentally threw up on the sheets. Again.

Jinhwan’s room is messy with clothes thrown carelessly in heaps across the floor. His bed looks like it hasn’t been made in weeks but at least the room doesn’t smell bad, the warm aroma of blueberries strong and tickling Hanbin’s nose. Chanwoo hiccups when Hanbin throws him on top of the bed, the springs squeaking and bouncing him up and down.

Hanbin’s way too drunk to properly help Chanwoo into the bed so all he does is throw the soft blanket Jinhwan has for decoration on top of the wasted boy. There’s a huge jug of water that Jinhwan keeps in every room they have in their house so he leaves that and a small cup on the night desk next to the bed.

Chanwoo’s snoring loudly and peacefully, lips open as saliva drips down his chin. Hanbin snorts, whispers a goodnight before closing the door halfway. He stumbles through the dark hallway before finding the light switch and flicking it on. The living room bathes in a wash of golden light which he’s glad for because the kitchen lights are way too bright for his drunk vision.

His stomach rumbles loudly, grabbing two frozen hot pockets from the freezer before popping them inside the microwave. Hanbin sits down on the counter of the kitchen, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening his twitter and Instagram. There’s a message from Jaewon about coming by his place at around three pm before he’ll be off.

That reminds him, he should probably go off to sleep as soon as he finishes his super late dinner – or breakfast, it is four in the morning. Crap, Hanbin shouldn’t have partied too much, the house is a mess and Hanbin still has to go out and buy the food for the kids and Jaewon’s goodbye party. The microwave beeps and Hanbin hops off to grab a plate, hissing at the heat and how it burns his fingers.

He stuffs half of one of the hot pockets in his mouth, huffing when it burns his tongue. Since his hands are busy with the plate of hot pockets he uses his foot to open the fridge, wiggles his fingers around to tightly grab onto a bottle of Gatorade from the pack that Donghyuk bought and wrote in clear black letters: **BELONGS TO DONGHYUK. DO NOT TOUCH HANBIN!!**

Too bad, this is Hanbin’s house. He pays half the rent. Their small kitchen table is messy with old take out cartons and music sheets that have gone unfinished because they were either shit or Hanbin lost his inspiration. So, since Hanbin is too drunk to stare at his failures and succumb to tears of every lost college student ever, he opts to sit on the couch.

Which in all honesty doesn’t fare any better. He sinks into the soft material, hoodie swallowing his narrow frame and drowning him further into the couch. The rest of the hot pocket is stuffed into his mouth, crumbs spilling past his lips. Hanbin frowns when he feels something poke at his butt and when he reaches behind to grab whatever it is, he finds an expired bottle of cherry scented lube.

Fucking Jinhwan, Hanbin’s told him not to have sex on the couch! How many times has the older boy brought boys and girls to do the nasty on _his_ couch that he bought off from the nice elderly lady on the opposite side of town. Gross, there are some shady looking dark spots that Hanbin thought were from spilled drinks. Obviously, with the lube stuffed between cushions, Hanbin is now suspicious of what exactly those dark spots are.

In the end, Hanbin ends up slipping onto the cold ground, gulping lemon-lime flavored Gatorade and eating his hot pocket as he finishes an episode of season one _Avatar: The Last Airbender_.

As time passes by, his eyelids become heavy, his head falling to his chest when Sokka and Katara find themselves arguing while Aang flies around in his little air bubble. Hanbin falls asleep, slouched over the tiny coffee desk, phone lit up with 67% battery, and with Cookie falling over his back to sleep.

_Shit_. His head. Man, Hanbin really should cut it out with the alcohol, he’s _never_ drinking as much as he did last night. His stomach churns, sloshing the hot pockets from the early morning that he’d eaten and mixing it up with the Vodka and coconut rum. His eyes are glued together, swollen like the rest of his face when he sits up and cracks his spine, wincing at the pain in his sore body and growing headache.

Cookie is licking his socked feet, biting and playing with the lint of the long _Adidas_ socks. “Mornin,’” His voice is rough, throat feeling like sandpaper when Hanbin swallows. He scrunches his nose at the foul smell and taste from his mouth, and groans when he finally stands up from the hard wood floor which only makes his body ache more in pain and for the headache to travel to the front, pounding and making blood rush past his ears.

There’s not much he remembers, his memory hazy and blurry. Some parts are clear, but for the most part all Hanbin can get a hint of was loud music and lots of alcohol. He does remember dropping Chanwoo off in Jinhwan’s bedroom though so he checks up on him first. Squinting past the crusts in his eyes, finding Chanwoo just as he left him except without a shirt and his pants unbuttoned. If he had his phone, Hanbin would definitely take a picture and send it to the group chat.

They only have one bathroom in their small house, but it’s huge and Hanbin would rather have a big bathroom than two tiny spaces they could barely fit in. It’s a mess, like the rest of their home since Hanbin and Jinhwan are two lazy college boys busy with the college duties. He’s pissing into the toilet, flicking crust out his eyes with one hand when he gasps loudly and he goes into panic mode after remembering that the get together is at 3 pm and he doesn’t even know what time it is!

Hanbin rushes to washs his face, grabbing his toothbrush, dabbing toothpaste and scrubbing the nasty taste from his mouth. He unbuckles his pants as he staggers into his room, kicking them off so he’s only in his loose boxers and oversized hoodie. Fuck, where did he leave his phone? Okay, back track now. He came to the house, threw his house keys somewhere, carried Chanwoo, ate a hot pocket … then what? His brain reaches a blank, nothing makes sense.

He’s going around circles in his room, throwing bed covers off, kicking clothing out of the way. There’s nothing, he really should have listened to Donghyuk about buying a clock instead of relying so much on his phone. Minty foam spills past the corners of his lips, hands digging through cabinets and shelves only to come up empty handed.

“Fuck!” It’s less coherent than that, he’s got toothpaste foam in his mouth and his toothbrush is hanging to the side of his mouth. Maybe he left it in the couch, sunk into whatever other stuff Jinhwan has hidden in there. He hurries into the bathroom to rinse his mouth and flees towards the living room.

The living room is bathed in a translucent brown courtesy of the curtains Hanbin’s parents bought them as a housewarming gift. But even through the blinds that only let beams of the sun spill in, Hanbin can tell it’s bright and _late_. Where the hell is Jinhwan? Fuck, they really shouldn’t have stayed out that late.

He’s removing cushions (finding a box of condoms, his Oreo cookies that Donghyuk had said disappeared, and a cigarette pack Hanbin probably forgot about) throwing them over the sofa, Cookie’s mewls of hunger, and the slow rush of cars passing by the street coloring the house in weak noise. Hanbin is deep in the couch, searching everywhere for his damn phone in nothing but loose boxers and his hoodie when the door is opened and a rush of voices blend in with Hanbin’s cries of panic.

“What is Hanbin doing?”

That’s Donghyuk. Hanbin muffles something that they can’t hear.

“What?”

Hanbin carefully pulls himself back out, flinching when Cookie bites his leg. “Ow, shit.” He bumps his head and rubs the sore spot, his headache growing ten folds. When he finally peeks his head out he finds all his friends staring at him with a mixture of raised brows (Jaewon and Yunhyeong), concern expressions (Jinhwan and Donghyuk), and judgmental glances (Junhoe, because it’s _always_ Junhoe). Even Chanwoo is up, hiccupping and rubbing his eyes with a little confused frown on his face when he spots Hanbin, looking much younger than he actually is.

“Wait, why is Jaewon here? I thought the party started at 3.”

Junhoe blinks before rolling his eyes. “It’s 3:29 pm, dude. We’ve been messaging you and Chanwoo since the party ended.”

Besides Junhoe, Jinhwan stands with an amused face. “Dong and Junhoe were betting whether they’d find you two dead or if a ransom was left behind ‘cause you were kidnapped.”

“Wow, thanks so much for the concern guys. I feel so loved by all of you.” Hanbin mumbles, his head flopping to the edge of the couch.

Jaewon snickers, walking over to their messy kitchen table and placing the bags of grocery items on top. Hanbin sinks low on the ground, knees wide and lips puckered in a pout. His phone is lying on the coffee table in front of the sofa where he left it. Only at 32%, it reads **3:38 P.M**. Hanbin hates his life.

“I’m going to shower, feed Chanwoo something before he throws up.” He ignores Junhoe’s deep voice parroting him and stomps into his bathroom. Hopefully a hot shower will get rid of the stupid headache and the pain in his stomach.

He doesn’t spend too much in the bathroom. Mostly because his friends have no sense of the word privacy in their dictionaries. Junhoe comes in three times just to annoy the hell out of him, Hanbin can bet anything on that. They even leave the door open so Cookie ends up jumping in the tub and hissing when water pours over his fur. Hanbin has to endure painful scratches on his legs, upper thigh, and way too closely to his dick.

To get back at his friends like the petty person he is, he purposefully walks out of the bathroom completely naked with a red towel wrapped around his head. Donghyuk and Chanwoo are the ones to shriek, almost slipping on the floor in their haste to cover their eyes while holding onto the bag of charcoal for the grill and the gas to fuel it. Junhoe chokes on his bottle of soju when he sees Hanbin – dick hanging out and ass cheeks on full display – he had been chugging down, eyes comically wide as some of it spills out through his nostrils.

He changes into a pair of soft joggers, long socks, and a _Scooby Doo_ sweatshirt that fits a few sizes too big for his lean frame. When he walks through the sliding glass doors to their backyard, bright blue beanie covering his wet hair and Cookie lounging comfortably and sleepily on the patio chair that no one really uses, he smiles menacingly and with no regret at the younger guys. Yunhyeong slaps him hard when he reaches the wooden picnic table that was also a gift from Hanbin’s parents.

“Ow! Why am I being physically abused?” He huddles into his crew sweatshirt and hides behind Jinhwan and Jaewon who are turning the grill on, pouring charcoal in.

Yunhyeong glares at him, “I am _family_! Remember that? I just saw your dick, man, no cousin should be traumatized by catching sight of their cousins dick.”

“No one should catch sight of _any_ dudes dick.” Junhoe gags at the mental image that has been tattooed in his memory for the rest of his life.

Hanbin cackles, flipping Junhoe off with both hands. “You’re gay, you love my dick.”

“ _Ew_ ,” Now Junhoe really does look likes he’s going to throw up, clutching onto his stomach. Hanbin wheezes, hanging off Yunhyeong’s shoulder who grumbles but lets him lean on him for support. “I might actually throw up at that mental image, this is illegal. I’m calling the police.”

“Fuck 12, man!” Hanbin pushes Junhoe away and winks at Chanwoo whose face has turned a permanent shade of red. Poor kid, he didn’t have to see Hanbin’s junk, completely clueless to the beef Hanbin had with his friends.

Hanbin brings out their large speakers, connecting his Bluetooth and pressing play on his alternative rock playlist. The mid-afternoon California sun is warm against their skin, heating their cheeks into a red flush due to the warmth. Mornings and nights in LA are always freezing cold, but during the afternoon when the sun is rising up in the blue sky with thick, fluffy clouds the weather is much warmer. Hanbin pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt up, covering his elbows as he settles down on the picnic table for a game of UNO.

“If Hanbin loses he should buy us ice cream from _Freddies_ if he wins than he has to buy us _Freddies_.” Donghyuk simpers, sliding next to Junhoe on the opposite bench.

There’s a round of cheers, Hanbin loudly protesting against that idea. Jinhwan and Jaewon stick close to the grill, watching them and commenting on the side. Donghyuk swipes his bangs out of the way, cracking his neck, fingers, and spine before he shuffles the cards. What a drama queen, he takes these games way too seriously.

And it’s for good reason. They’re only twelve minutes in when the arguing begins. Chanwoo is probably the best player at playing UNO, he has a good poker face that no one can read. Donghyuk gets snappy when he’s on thin ice, so Hanbin knows that the decision to draw a D plus four card on top of Donghyuk’s own is going to kill them all off, leaving Hanbin as the winner.

“Get wrecked, bitch!” Hanbin pumps his hands up in the air. Junhoe gasps, hands tangling in his air in panic. Yunhyeong slumps forwards until his forehead hits the warm wood and Chanwoo as always sticks with the indifferent gaze.

“No! No, fuck you, Hanbin. That’s unfair, you’re cheating.” Donghyuk whines, stomping his Nike Air shoes on the grass and wiggling everywhere. Hanbin laughs evilly and rubs his palms together, delighting in the groans of the rest of his friends.

“You know the rules,” Hanbin says.

Donghyuk pouts, looking so disgruntled it’s kind of cute. All wind up like a wet dog with the long face and blazing eyes. The rule is quite simple, if someone draws a four on top of another four than the unlucky victim has to draw an eight. It’s brutal and always ruins any chances of playing a casual game, they’re way too competitive to play casual.

“Screw the rules, screw you, I hate this!” Donghyuk flops his cards in a flying pile of colors. In the end none of them win because they are all too arrogant to call it quits with a pile of twenty cards in their hands. Even Chanwoo is starting to look frustrated, a reluctant draw is proposed because no one wants to deal with a moody Chanwoo on the Sunday before college starts.

Their meal is a traditional Korean BBQ, bright green lettuce and homemade kimchi that Yunhyeong made for them neatly placed on the picnic table. Most of the food was made by Yunhyeong, honestly, they just kind of stood to the side and handed him things whenever he said so. Jinhwan and Jaewon were in charge of grilling the beef while Junhoe and Donghyuk pretended to help them.

Hanbin is going to miss this. He’s stuffing his mouth full of beef dipped in sweet sauce, downing the soju to soothe the knot that wants to tug his throat tight. Jaewon has been with Hanbin since day one. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be away from his best friend. The two of them did so many things together that Hanbin will always treasure, keeping those memories tight in a jar.

They learned how to drive together because Jinhwan got tired of driving them around everywhere after he got his license. Hanbin and him joined the drama play that was performed at the end of each year in their high school because it was meant to commemorate their final year as seniors in school before heading to college. They even applied for their applications at the exact same time, writing and reviewing their essays and demos to send to UCLA.

The two of them got their acceptance letters in the mail, a thick package welcoming them as new students. They shared a dorm their freshman year during the fall semester before Hanbin moved in with Jinhwan and Jaewon decided to stick on campus. When they were sixteen years old they went to prom with some pretty girls and lost their virginities with them that same night. Jaewon was the first person Hanbin ever came out to when he was seventeen and he was afraid his parents would do to him what Jinhwan’s parents did to him.

Jaewon was there with them, bumping his head to the fast beat of the drums he played, Chanwoo playing double bass with a catchy tune that made the crowd sway their heads and bump into each other as their feet tapped energetically on the shiny floor. On the nights when Hanbin cried into his pillow, having his first panic attack because life was so confusing and professors were too stressful – it was Jaewon who had been there to coax him into a calm state of mind.

All of that would be over tonight. Sure, there was still skype, texting, emailing projects to one another. But there were obstacles that would build up in the path, the time difference being the most relevant one. It’d be a complete lie to say that they’d have time to chat with one another or with the band together. Hanbin can barely keep up a social life with his friends, his whole concentration is in writing sheets and producing songs for the producing company in New York, working on project for his rigorous classes, and working with their band.

And it seem like that elephant was filling the room up in a slowly growing crescendo of tension before the final diminish. Hanbin could feel it deep in his bones and in the itchy surface of his skin, saw it in how Donghyuk kept his hand over Jaewon’s shoulder and the way Junhoe grinned every time Jaewon looked in his direction.

It was buzzing, a living organism that was spreading rapidly through the living room when they came back inside for sweet pastries. Jinhwan kept biting his bottom lip, gulping loudly and blinking rapidly the way he did whenever he wanted to cry.

Yunhyeong had grown up with them as well and he could feel the heaviness in the air that drowned all of them as time passed talking fondly about their first gig, their first recording, the music video that Junhoe recorded and went viral, their first time in an official studio that Royce Hall usually only let graduate students use becoming a complete mess with seven boys messing around.

When the clock hits the six o’clock mark, Jaewon stands up with a sad smile. Chanwoo hadn’t known Jaewon for that long, but when Hanbin introduced him as their bass it was Jaewon and Jinhwan who took him under their wing. It was pretty blurry after Chanwoo hugged Jaewon tightly and mumbled how he didn’t want Jaewon to leave, his voice soft and broken as he spoke in Korean.

“I’ll miss you guys, too.” Jaewon tells them, trying to hug them all at the same time. “We’ll video chat as much as we can. Stop crying, I’ll be back guys.”

Hanbin forces them to stay in the house while Jinhwan and him drive Jaewon to his shared apartment in the condos near the university. He knows that if they all come along it’s going to be filled with tears, sobs, begs of _just stay_ , and Hanbin will want to tear up as well. They listen to their EP on the drive to the airport, Jaewon’s plane leaves at 10 and with traffic included in their time they’ll have ten minutes max to properly hug and say bye.

None of them talk about Jaewon’s departure. Jinhwan drives the car through the late night packing of traffic, red lights beaming down in the wet streets so their reflections look fuzzy around the edges. Hanbin follows the droplets of water that slip down the window, playing with his fingers and pinching the shell of his ear as they grow closer and closer to the airport.

The airport looms menacingly in the distance, bright white lights pooling the parking lot in a white color of wash. Jinhwan parks in the visitor lot, their EP that they had been playing on repeat cutting off on an angst-driven _don’t leave_.

“So,” Jaewon turns to face them, eyes a bit dark. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Hanbin snorts and rolls his eyes so far behind his head it hurts. “Shut up, man. It’s not like you’ll be gone forever.”

Jinhwan doesn’t say anything, Hanbin can tell it’s because if he opens his mouth all that will spill out are weeps. And there is nothing more embarrassing that could happen in an airport than someone bursting out in tears in an LA airport with a huge crowd of people keeping the airport buzzing in voices that are unrecognizable.

“You’ll be fine,” He looks at Jinhwan with a mockingly serious expression and gets a laugh out of it. Wet and snot-filled, but it’s something. “Please don’t let Hanbin do stupid shit until I’m back.”

“Fuck you, man. I’m pulled into stupid shit because of your stunts.” He weakly punches Jaewon’s shoulder.

Jinhwan nods, “I’ll make sure he’s not too hard on us.”

Jaewon’s flight is called through the intercom. Through his peripheral view he can see Jinhwan trying to wipe the few lone tears off his cheeks. Hanbin himself can feel the knot tightening around his throat, the urge to cry and hold onto Jaewon growing as seconds pass by and their time together comes to an end.

“You’ll find someone new, they’ll be better than me, I bet.” He says through a wink, eyes glittering in unshed tears.

No way, there’s no way anyone will be better than Jaewon. They may be able to find someone to replace Jaewon in the meantime, someone who fits well with them but isn’t their missing piece of the _Alien Blues_ puzzle. There is not a single person who will be able to fit in the Jaewon shaped hole, whoever Donghyuk finds for them or the person they select from a try out – none of them will come anywhere near close to Jaewon.

They have history, all of them. There are tears, laughter, and too many moments that a stranger can’t fill up. Like Jaewon said, he’ll come back. And when he does they’ll throw out their replacement drummer, welcoming back _their_ drummer with open arms.

Hanbin isn’t going to let Jaewon’s legacy in _Alien Blues_ disappear when they get their new drummer. He promises that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bobby will officially be introduced in the next chapter! you can find me on [twitter](https://t.co/rGp9Em4nLQ) or [tumblr](https://beyondthesuga.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thank you for reading <3


	2. chapter the second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hanbin almost dies because of school and then almost dies again when Fucking Stupid Skateboard Kid blasts in front of his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to my brother who helped me with the music technicalities cause i have no idea what music is :)

The first week of classes is as it always is. Hanbin wakes up to late morning streams of the sun, eyes groggy and mouth dry. He takes a sip of cool water, pushing the covers of his bed off and hearing the light _thump_ the weight of his blanket makes as it falls on his floor. He does his typical bathroom routine, taking a quick shower due to the smoky charcoal residue left on his skin and hair from yesterday afternoons’ barbeque. Jinhwan’s room is empty when he peeks in, no sign of him in the kitchen or living room so Hanbin guesses he must’ve been off to his classes.

Hanbin hates the first day of classes, Monday’s are the worst. And the first Monday of the first week of school – it truly sucks. The University of California Los Angeles is one of the best in the state and in the country. Which means that there is always an interested bunch of kids attempting their second shot at receiving the acceptance letter. It’s not as bad as the fall semester, less packed than it is right now as Hanbin pushes past people through Bruin Walk.

The freshman are less excited than when the first term started. Dark under eyes, gaining weight, looking bitterly at the tall, European styled architect buildings their classes are held. Hanbin gets it, he’s been here two years and the fatigue never goes away. The only thing he looks forward to is summer, no worries about classes or due projects for almost four months. It means he can be completely focused on his music.

He picks up a light breakfast from one of the cafes on campus, the cold January air biting his skin with its icy cold wind. He huddles closer into his one size too big leather jacket, warming him better than the simple _Bathing Ape_ hoodie he’s pulled over.

Classes are spent with teachers going over the syllabus, droning about the percentage of assignments and the _no extra credit_ rule they have. He sees a couple of student’s slump forwards in their seats, some of them opening their laptops to switch or drop classes at last minute. Hanbin is lucky he’s favored by all the professors he’s taken for his music major, they like him and let him get away with most stuff.

Lunch arrives and Hanbin skips out on going to any of the diners on campus. It’s 2:16 p.m and he knows that the lunch rush won’t end until about four pm the latest. Maybe even later, it’s the first day of classes after all and most people like to take advantage of the variety of foods given. Jinhwan shoots him a message asking if he wants to meet up for pizza with the others across the street of the campus.

When Hanbin enters the pizzeria, the heavy aroma of pizza and melted cheese hits him. A girl calls out a greeting, Hanbin nodding politely at her. Soft pop music plays, just a humming background that lulls alongside the easy-going conversations of students eating. He spots his friends, sitting on the largest booth of the pizza place that is practically reserved specifically for them due to their frequent visits.

“Any luck with finding a drummer?” Is the first thing he says to Donghyuk, sliding into the empty seat next to Chanwoo. There’s pizza sauce all over his mouth, his cheeks popping out as he stuffs himself with food.

Donghyuk shakes his head, “Nope.” He pops out. “Most people don’t want to be compromised.”

Jinhwan furrows his brow, “Not even if we pay them?”

“Money talks but it doesn’t lure. College students are desperate for money they don’t have to work for.” Junhoe pipes up from where he sits right next to the wall, bleak sunlight pouring in from the stainless glass.

Hanbin sighs, “This is so fucking frustrating.” He tangles his fingers into his brown curls, tugs on them just so he can stop the oncoming headache he can feel brewing behind his lids. Chanwoo pats his back sympathetically, passing Hanbin a plate of his extra cheese-y pizza with cheese filled crust and five hot buffalo wings.

There is a heavy tension in the air, something they all avoid bringing up. Hanbin feels that weight pulling his heart strings, chewing his lip as he pushes his wings around with a fork. He taps his fingers to the beat that plays, something with drums and a mid-tempo playing guitar, words soft in a way that lulls Hanbin into treasured memories.

He remembers this song specifically because it was the song they sang during their first performance. It was to a small crowd, all of them nervous but with a bright grin on their faces that made the other people smile and sing along. Donghyuk’s high pitch voice blending with Jinhwan’s soprano lilts. Hanbin remembers luminous lights, shining down his skin as he played synths on the piano, adlibs hyping the crowd up. It’s a good memory, both lifts him up and sinks his stomach.

Hanbin throws a couple of bills on the table, getting up with Yunhyeong to walk to the Mathematical and Science building for their science classes. Hanbin is totally not looking forward to his science classes, at least his class is easier than biology and the _rate my professors_ page of his teacher was happily labeled as _easy_.

Poor Yunhyeong is stuck taking chemistry, Hanbin gives him sympathetic thumbs up and parts ways as he climbs up the stairs to the second floor of the building. There’s large groups of students leaning against the wall, most of them sitting down with their legs outstretched. Hanbin tip toes between them, holding onto the straps of his backpack and rushing to the large auditorium classroom.

It’s not that full when Hanbin enters, breathing a bit heavily from the exertion of climbing up stairs and hurrying through the packed hallway. He takes a seat in the middle row, settling down as he chooses a spot that isn’t too close to the corner that he can’t see the screen but also not smack in the middle where the professor will make awkward eye contact with him.

The website was right about their professor, he’s young, thick accent in the way he speaks English but is always grinning. He doesn’t even hold them for the entirety of the class, just reviews a few expectations, exams, essays he’ll assign before he practically kicks them out. Hanbin sticks to his seat though as the stampede of students stomp down the steps, squishing past his seat and bumping their huge, bulging backpacks on Hanbin’s back.

He’s grateful that the class ended early, pushing the heavy doors of the building to meet cold winds. The sun is weak even at its highest point, barely pouring its warmth on those who walked the less crowded pathways. Hanbin makes his way to the library, deciding that since he doesn’t have class until another forty minutes he can take advantage of getting a nap. He still hasn’t recovered from Saturday nights’ blackout and the sadness of seeing his best friend go Sunday evening. Maybe sleeping will help.

When Hanbin opens his eyes, bleary-eyed and mouth dry, there’s a guy with curly red hair that falls just above his ears standing on the opposite side of the long passage with the shelves filled with thick, heavy books that had years of dust eating them away.

The guy doesn’t pay him much attention except one glance before he turns back to where he was searching for a book. Muffled music drifts from his earphones that dangle from his ears, audible even from the opposite side. His clothing was three sizes too big for his lean frame, big chunky shoes he bought off some hypebeast website most likely. There was a longboard with the design of the _Scooby Gang_ drawn in bright pops of color tucked into one arm. He looked like a frat boy, an air of smugness that exuded from his relaxed stance and the low hanging of his ripped jeans.

He was good looking though, and Hanbin admired him for a bit before he shook his head and flickered his eyes to the clock that hung on the tall wall, reading 4:27 p.m. Hanbin straightens up, using his palms to rub his eyes clear before standing up, his bones popping when he stretches like Cookie does after a fat nap.

Hanbin shakes himself and feels much better. He reaches to grab his backpack, tugging it over his shoulders and looks up only to find the boy with the curly hair staring at him. He startles and almost bumps into the corner of the shelf in his haste to run off. Hanbin stares after him with a raised eyebrow but doesn’t think too deeply about it, he probably thought Hanbin weird for falling asleep in the last row of shelves in the library. There were, after all, pages taped onto the wooden frames stating in capitalized black letters: **STUDENTS SHOULD NOT FALL ASLEEP BETWEEN ROWS!**

The walk down the stairs is quiet except for the muffling of voices that drifts between the cracks of the third floor doors, students and staff chilling out and working on projects. It’s colder than it was in the afternoon, the large trees shadowing much of the sun rays so it was cooler beneath the shade. His last class of the day was Music Theory II which would last until eight p.m so the snooze he took in the library was helpful.

When he passed through B-Plate as a shortcut to the music building, the dining hall was less filled than it had been during the lunch hour. There was still quite a large group of them hanging around talking in obnoxiously loud voices. Their chatter-fuck followed Hanbin as he made his way to the music building, entering the room his class was held in. The class he took was in one of the smaller classrooms, individual desks in neat rows that pointed towards the large white board.

He nodded at a few of the students he recognized as part of his major, sitting next to a girl and a guy with bright blue hair. The professor he took last semester would be teaching this course, an old man with a mean permanent frown on his face and a long crooked nose that he constantly stared down at students. But he was nice, well, he was nice to _Hanbin_.

He took a quick glance at his phone when the professor walked in, the clock hitting the 4:40 and a message from Donghyuk saying he had a few people who might be interested to be their drummer. Well, hopefully they were serious whoever they were.

Yawns are pulled out from students as they struggle to walk through the maze of desks and students rushing out of the room. Hanbin bids his professor a sleepy goodbye, following the crowd of students through the back doors of the building that lead to the large and mostly empty parking lot.

Foggy smoke breath pooled from his mouth as he yawned loudly now that no students were around. The moon glared its weak light through his path as he rounded towards the bus stop where he could see a couple of students sitting on the cold bench. He ruffled through the pockets of his backpack in search of a cigarette and a lighter, finding his air pods and plugging those in to listen to some _Cocteau Twins_.

The warm glow of the flame glittered and flickered in the shadows of the night, the music loud enough to drown the screeches of college students who walked the sidewalks of the cafes and shops lit in soft, warm colors. He brought the lighter to the cigarette that hung loosely on the corner of his mouth, teeth biting down just lightly as he burnt the tip and watched the crispy orange embers fly. The inhale of nicotine that pulls in his mouth and pours out his nose feels good as he burrows his hands into his pockets and blows smoke through his agape lips.

Hanbin stayed a few feet away from the bus stop, leaning against one of the tall poles and sitting on the round edge. Sleep was pulling his strings, the day had been long and full of too much information for his still stuck-in-a-month long break. The stress of figuring out how he’d plan the next few weeks for practice without a drummer and also writing new music without Jaewon was also pushing a heavy weight on Hanbin’s shoulders.

The week had just barely started and he was already tired of everything. Man, college sucks.

“I’m gonna borrow the car Monday’s and Wednesdays, also Fridays cause I have lab.” He sneers at the thought of the lab classes he has to take. Stupid if you ask Hanbin, college already takes away enough of his hours and now they want to take more from him.

Jinhwan rolls his eyes, “Well, you’re gonna have to take the bus in the mornings cause I have class at nine and there’s no way in hell I’m riding the crowded bus that early in the morning.”

“You’re so picky, nani.”

“I paid for that car, twat.”

Hanbin waves a very exaggerated goodbye to Jinhwan as he strolls out the door with a cup of coffee in hand because he’s stingy and thinks the coffee on campus is overpriced. Hanbin sighs as he follows Cookie into his room, falling in a heap on top of his bed, cheek hitting one of Cookie’s toys.

“Cooks! What I say about leaving your toys on my bed!” Cookie meows in response, licking his paws and staring at Hanbin with wide, innocent eyes.

He has one class online, an easy film course he took for his art credit – because any music courses didn’t count as his GED classes. Hanbin looks at the disgusting mess that keeps piling up in his room, jeans stacked on top of dirty shirts that probably smell of sweat, smoke, and that after smell of dirty clothes that suspiciously looks like a demon when his room is blanketed in darkness. He hears his phone beep, catching Cookie’s attention before the cat seems to shrug and curl on the corner of his bed. Hanbin exhales, whatever, he’s going to catch up on sleep.

The week is almost over and Hanbin feels like it’s been ten years. Mostly filled with professors attempting to remember the names of the students or just plainly getting used to the large auditorium filled classes. Hanbin ends up staying up till midnight each night to read textbooks and go through powerpoints for his classes, writing down notes on his iPad or printing out page after page of information that he probably won’t ever use in the future.

He had picked up the keys from Jinhwan when they met up for lunch, the older grumbling about having to take the bus back home. Hanbin shrugged and told him to deal with it. His classes had gone at a snail pace, the clock never seeming to change as three minutes felt like three hours. He was antsy to leave, wanting to get home and take a nap.

As soon as his astronomy class was over he rushed to the library again, thought it’d be good for him to catch up on sleep so he wouldn’t end up blanking out for half of his music theory lecture. The professor had a very strict _no sleeping_ rule that Hanbin did not want to cross. He caught a glimpse of a boy who seem just a bit familiar but his sleep-ridden mind couldn’t pinpoint where he could have seen him. His nap was shorter than it was last time, but he felt better than he had before.

Turns out four hours in class, listening to an old man talk with a mostly mono-tone voice was an easy way to die. Hanbin should have chosen a spot in the back where he could subtly fall asleep, recording the professor for notes later. The girl next to him, Jennie, gave him a _same dude_ face, her lips pulled into a tired grin. Hanbin felt that pain, rolling his eyes to the back of his head and lolling his tongue to the side in lieu of dying of boredom. She laughed quietly, the boy with the bright blue hair snorting too.

Shortly after class ended, the sky lit in twilight, Hanbin exchanged numbers with the girl Jennie and the blue haired boy named Michael. He said his goodbye’s and walked towards the car, smoking a quick cigarette to warm him up from the cold weather. The sun rays were still peeking through the soft blends of the dark blue and mellow yellow sky, the moon brighter than it had been earlier.

When he turned the car on, putting the heater at a warm setting, he sat there for a few seconds staring blankly at the empty parking lot, the rush of traffic coloring the streets in blurs of red, blue, and black. There is silence within the enclosed space of the car, the scent of apples and cinnamon strong because for some reason Jinhwan is obsessed with fruity and spice scents.

Hanbin sighed and played whatever station on the radio seem to fit his current mood. The road curved into slopes and long slants, Hanbin’s mind was elsewhere as he drove through the empty road. He was thinking about posting a picture on his Instagram asking for anyone who would like to try out as their drummer. Maybe he could ask that pair from his class if they knew anyone, someone out there had to know how to play drums.

He felt defeated while _Kelly Clarkson_ sang an uplifting song about _what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger_. Kelly, I have news for you, Hanbin thought miserably in his car. Christ, this was pathetic. Was Hanbin really driving Jinhwan’s car, cigarette smoke still licking the apple scented air, about to have a complete break down just because he couldn’t find–

It happens so fast. Hanbin is one minute sulking in the driver seat, listening to music and musing over his rather pathetic day, and the next minute some kid is blasting right in front of his car. Hanbin gasps, his heart lurching out of his chest and choking his throat as he swerves to the left in order to not hit the kid. He stares wide eyed as the kid gawks at him through the windshield. He’s got red hair pulled into tight curls, looking frizzy and poofy in the cold night. A longboard beneath his feet where he’d been riding.

“What the fuck.” Hanbin says to no one in particular.

The kid seems to catch on with himself, shaking his body before sending Hanbin an apologetic smile, throwing him a little wave. What the fuck does that mean. Hanbin almost ran over this dude and all he’s doing is smiling at him? He’s confused and mostly frustrated, the week hasn’t been the best for him and he’s cranky from spending hours upon hours in classes, having to figure out by when he’ll get that drummer because February is rounding the corner and there is no one here to help him.

It’s natural for him to let out this frustration eating him away on the kid who almost got ran over by Hanbin. “Watch where you’re going kid!” The window is rolled down and cold air sweeps inside the car, his voice is low and brusque as he glares at the guy.

The guy had been grinning before, but his smile slips away with the snippy words. A frown mars his features, he flicks Hanbin off. “Whatever, man.” He shouts before he runs up the hill and disappears into the night.

Hanbin’s jaw is left ajar, eyes almost popping out of his head with bafflement. He cannot believe this just happened. Hanbin grits his teeth and finds the incentive to grip the wheel and press on the gas pedal to drive away from the stupid kid. What was his problem? Hanbin had been driving in the lane that he was supposed to stay on, and then some skateboard dude had been the one to veer into the road where Hanbin had been driving – like what idiot does that!

 **👽** **:**

 **hanbin:** _i almost fucking died  
_ **hanbin:** _and almost killed a kid_

Say what you want about Hanbin being a drama queen.

 **👽** **:**

 **junhoe** **🖤** **:** _pity, was looking forward to inheriting your designer shit_

 **yunhyeong** **🌼** **:** _oh my god_ **😱** _hanbin are you okay?_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _who was it this time?_

 **hanbin:** _thank you yunhyeong!  
_ **hanbin:** _you’re the only one who actually cares about me_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _i can’t believe hanbin’s ghost is messaging us. rip to a real one_ 🙏🏼

 **jinhwan** 🐍 **:** _wait that sounds like a good verse, write that down!_

 **hanbin:** _you are all horrible, i hate you._

 **junhoe** **🖤** **:** _how much yall wanna bet he’s doing the duck lips_

“So what actually happened?” Jinhwan is cooking food when Hanbin steps in, body movements sluggish as he kicks off his Converse shoes and sinks into the couch face down. The house smells good, cooked beef and fried up veggies ghosting the blueberry scent he was so used to being welcomed with.

“Mmf, wanna, talph abofh if.” Hanbin is quite aware that he doesn’t sound coherent in anyway, but he’s so tired, all he wants is to sleep for the next five years. He hates this – school just barely started.

“Sorry, I don’t speak gibberish.” Jinhwan laughs out. He brings out a warm dish of bibimpap with the egg steaming streaks of smoke.

Hanbin sits up, mostly crawling towards the table. “You should, you’ve known me since we were like ten or something.”

Jinhwan and Hanbin dig in like starving men who have had their first meal in weeks. Which honestly is sort of true because they’ve been eating fast food and greasy meals from local shops. Hanbin hasn’t had something homemade since Sunday.

“Well, I was minding my own business driving the car with Kelly Clarkson telling me I shouldn’t give up in life and should romanticize my life problems–”

“Kelly Clarkson? Really?”

“Don’t interrupt me – anyways, there I was driving like the responsible person I am when out of nowhere some stupid fucking kid almost smashed into my car because he was riding a skateboard when there was an obvious car driving down the road.” Hanbin’s got rice sticking to his face, some food splattering out when he makes an exaggerated _boom_ to personify how he almost got a heart attack. Jinhwan stares at him with disgust, scooting further away from him.

“Then I told him to watch where he was going and he fucking flipped me the middle finger! Like, who even does that!”

Jinhwan shakes his head, grinning. “Apparently a stupid skateboard kid. At least he was nice about it.”

“Nice? How was he nice, he flipped me off!”

“He could’ve pretended he’d been hit, call the police on you, you would have gotten arrested and also end up paying medical bills for the kid – plus who knows, maybe he’d sue you. Also, my car would be gone and I’d have to bail you out.” Jinhwan frowns, yeah, no way was he paying for Hanbin’s bail.

Hanbin blinks at him, a little lost with his doe eyes. “Why have you thought about this scenario rather thoroughly?”

“Mhm,” Jinhwan turns innocent eyes that Hanbin can read straight through because he knows Jinhwan like the back of his palm. There’s no fooling him when they’ve known each other this long. “Oh, you know. We’ve thought about how if any one of us was to get arrested it’d be you. Spoiler alert: No one is bailing you out.”

Hanbin isn’t even going to ask for him to elaborate on that. He needs new friends.

On Thursday night Jaewon calls through skype, the group all huddled up in the cramped living room with a box of pizza and tubs of melting ice cream that Cookie has been sneakily licking from. Jinhwan connects it to their smart TV, the little _ring ring_ of the call echoing past their loud voices of complaints regarding school and teachers who really are out here murdering the youth.

It’s grainy at first, Jaewon’s face glitching and his voice stops at the first _hey!_ Junhoe and Donghyuk snicker before the video screen focuses and then it’s Jaewon’s bright smile looking just a tad dimmer through the screen.

“I’m glad I’ve counted all of you for alive,” He starts, “Thought I’d come live to Junhoe dead and Chanwoo missing because Hanbin had enough of you.”

Hanbin stares at Jaewon with a deadpan expression, flipping him the middle finger. “I’ve come close to burying Junhoe in my backyard, he doesn’t know how to shut up.”

“I hate you too, it’s a mutual feeling.” Junhoe pipes up, but there is laughter ringing his voice.

Chanwoo nods excitedly where he has Cookie in his lap, “He’s been even more difficult lately because of the whole drummer thing.”

Jaewon’s expression turns worried, but his smile is still intact. “No luck there?”

“None whatsoever,” Donghyuk says with a shake. “I talked with a few people but none of them have wanted to do it. They say it’s too much for them.”

“That sucks,” Jaewon slumps comfortably in his bed, pulling the laptop closer into his lap. “I should have searched for someone before dumping –“

He doesn’t even get to finish that sentence before all of them start yelling and talking over him. It’s not Jaewon’s fault, Hanbin hasn’t been mad with him since the first day he told him. Gotten over it pretty quickly because he’s proud of his friend, he wants him to chase after his own dreams and goals.

There are a variety of shouts which leave Jaewon laughing, rolling his eyes as he apologizes. It’s warm, his chest feeling like it’s been pulled apart and then sewn back together in weird patches. Even with the distance, the time difference, Jaewon looking like he’s tired but so excited for the future, it feels cozy. It leaves Hanbin feeling weary, only because this year has been stressful and it’s only the first month.

It’s late by the time the video call ends, Chanwoo keeps shutting his eyes and bumping his head on Yunhyeong’s shoulder where the older tells a very exaggerated and dramatic story. He’s had a rough week, getting used to using all his brain power for his hour’s long lectures. These teachers don’t know how to let students catch a break, ugh, he doesn’t even want to think about his labs tomorrow. At least he’ll only be on campus for two hours.

Hanbin falls asleep on the floor of the living room like he did that Sunday morning. Except instead of being lulled by the voices of _Avatar_ and the rumbling of their heater, he went to sleep with the obnoxiously contagious laughter that came from Junhoe, Donghyuk arguing like a petty child with Jaewon, Jinhwan and Yunhyeong booing and awing with Chanwoo snoring and Cookie purring.

Even with all the miles that separated Jaewon from his favorite group of people the atmosphere was just as lively and warm as if he was right there with them. Hanbin smiled sleepily and softly, shut his eyes just for a few seconds and fell into a blank dreamless sleep.

It’s shit. Hanbin fucking hates it. How is it possible that he has some of the best equipment any young musician could ask for and it still comes out like shit? He’s been at it since the morning, tweaking around with a sample he made a few years ago and had always wanted to work with. It’s a great melody, something upbeat with a double bass that makes an exhilaration rush through the blood – but fuck’s sake, Hanbin can’t fix it into this particular song.

“Shit, shit, _shit_!” His hand comes down with more force than he meant to and slams a bunch of keys. The screen freezes, glitching a bit before it resumes but this time with a lag to it. Hanbin growls as he punches the keyboard again, fixing the unnecessary notes added to the song.

It’s getting late, he had texted Jinhwan he’d be home by five but it was already 4:38 p.m and he was still nowhere near being finished with this piece. He’d spent three hours straight in the studio, walking back down the countless stairs of the building until he reached the first floor where the private studios were from his one hour studio lab.

His back was aching, his butt half numbed from sitting down for hours in front of the computer tweaking with the midi keyboard. There were countless sounds he’d been working on using the virtual synthesizers and parameters, mixing them up to expand alongside Donghyuk’s high pitch singing.

Unfortunately for Hanbin, it didn’t quite work the way he wanted it to. Firstly, he’d discovered that the recording of Jinhwan’s particular verse had accidentally been deleted. Then when he’d tried to retrieve a back-up file – because he was paranoid and backed up every single thing he created – he found out that the mic he had in his house was actually faulty and had picked up Yunhyeong’s whining from that particular day.

He should have deleted the damn file the minute he’d heard the first off note, the way the saxophone that Donghuk played had been too scratchy. But he was stubborn, thought he was the next _Metro Boomin_ or something because he’d decided to just fix it instead. As if there was anything to fix, it was terrible, he was wasting his time away on a piece that was never going to sound good. But did Hanbin admit that to himself? No, he didn’t. Because he was a stupid stubborn shit that was only producing more shit.

He practically stomped out of the studio, shoving his stuff into his backpack without caring about wrinkling the sheets of music he’d been working on – he’d regret this later. A message popped up from Jinhwan, a blurry picture of Donghyuk jumping excitedly.

 **jinhwan** **🐍** **:** _hurry home, dong has a surprise_

 **hanbin:** _if it’s not jaewon back from london idc  
_ **hanbin:** _omw, just got stuck with something_

 **jinhwan** **🐍** **:** _lol no, but it’ll make you feel better._

Hanbin slams the door to the SUV so hard the slam echoes through the quiet neighborhood, a dog barking like crazy from across the street. Music vibrates past the walls of the house, shadows of people dancing and moving. Hanbin frowns as he puts the key into the doorknob, but never actually gets to unlock it because the door is suddenly opening and an unfamiliar boy with a drumstick in one hand and huge hooped earrings dangling from his earlobes sways the door open.

“Who the fuck are you?” Hanbin blurts out, blinking at the guy. Now that he’s got a good look of him Hanbin’s brain is flashing red alerts of familiarity, but he has no idea from where he’s seen him.

There’s a blue cotton candy flavored _dum dum_ dangling out from his pouty lips that are colored a bright blue that blends into an ombre with the natural pink color of his mouth. He’s staring at Hanbin with round eyes, cheeks hollowing on the lollipop before he slurps obnoxiously loud and pops it out.

“Who are _you_? I was here first.” His voice is deep, a little rough around the edges but a humorous touch to his words. He’s trying to come off as nice and joking around, but all Hanbin hears through those words is disrespect coming from someone who he’s never met.

“I live here, asswipe.” Hanbin pushes the door, the kid startling and backing away. He slings the lollipop back into his mouth, scowling at Hanbin. Now that he’s inside and the shadows of the late evening don’t obscure much of his face he can see the sharpness of his jawline, squared and trailing down to a strong neck with a single plain choker.

“Oh, you must be Hanbin then.” Hanbin raises a brow. “Donghyuk said if an asshole stepped into the house declaring themselves the owner it’d be the guy named Hanbin.” He shrugs, teasing smirk playing on his lips when Hanbin scoffs.

“You didn’t answer my question. Who the hell are you–”

Donghyuk pops into the foyer then, looking between Hanbin’s glare and Bobby’s laidback smile, arms crossed as if challenging Hanbin. Uh oh, this sounds like trouble.

“Hanbin!” Donghyuk yells out. Hanbin turns to face him, expression painted in obvious annoyance. He points a disdainful finger at the kid, “Who is he?”

“That’s your present!” Donghyuk says, the music lowering down.

Hanbin blinks, twirling around to face the boy. “It’s not my birthday, also I don’t know how I feel about getting a lap dance from a guy who isn’t my type.”

“Sheez, Dong, my man. You didn’t mention he was this much of a dickhead.”

Hanbin growls, fisting his hands into small fists that are swallowed by his too big hoodie. The kid seems nice, if just a little cocky, maybe if Hanbin had been in a better state of mind he’d be nicer. But he’s not in a better state of mind, he’s in a fucking horrible place mentally at the moment and this frat looking boy won’t shut the hell up.

“Hanbin, meet Bobby. Bobby this is Hanbin – I told you to play nice.” Donghyuk tells him through gritted teeth in a low voice that Hanbin can hear.

The Bobby dude grins, crooked teeth that Hanbin just notices glinting menacingly between the lollipop stick. Hanbin feels his body turn hot when he bores his stare up and down his body, eyebrow with the piercing still raised up in mock amusement. He was tall, not much taller than Hanbin. Wore baggy jeans that fell just below his waistline where his boxers were clearly shown and an oversized cropped hoodie that fell just above his navel, belly button pierced just like his brow.

“Don’t worry man, even if I were here to give you a lap dance I’d leave. You’re not that much of a hot shot.” He winks, foot coming up to press against the beige walls of his house with his dirty sneakers.

Hanbin pushes past them into the living room, throwing his backpack next to the couch and startling Cookie who had been licking his fur. Jinhwan beams at Hanbin, smile never disappearing from his cherub face even as Hanbin’s expression was clouded as he stomped over to him.

“I thought I said that if it wasn’t Jaewon, I wasn’t interested.” Hanbin points a finger at Bobby who flutters his fingers, still sucking on that stupid lollipop.

Jinhwan nods, grin still whole. “He’s our new drummer.”

What.

“What?”

“Wait, so I got the gig?”

Lollipop kid says at the same Hanbin speaks.

“No you didn’t!” He turns to stare at Jinhwan, “I haven’t heard him play. He’s not in the band.”

“ _Yet_.” Jinhwan winks and hops off the table, putting an arm over Bobby’s shoulder. “He’s great! You’ll love him.”

“I doubt that.” Now that Hanbin’s temper is cooling down as time passes by, he squints his eyes. This guy looks so familiar, Hanbin is sure of it. He keeps trying to pinpoint the exact moment he could have seen him somewhere, maybe on campus? He was a drummer, perhaps he was in the music department that focused on bass sounds. But he didn’t look much like a music kid, and Hanbin had never seen him before – then again, Hanbin was quite oblivious to his surroundings when it didn’t directly affect him.

Still, something about him was ticking Hanbin off. He couldn’t immediately recognize him but his brain for sure was.

“Wait.” Hanbin suddenly says, catching the attention of Donghyuk and Jinhwan, Bobby furling his brows. “Holy shit, it’s Fucking Stupid Skateboard Kid.”

Jinhwan whirls around to gaze at him with a completely different look.

A look of clear approval.

“He’s who now?”

Bobby seems to recognize it too, his own eyes widening so he looks like a bunny – all round eyes and crooked teeth. “No way, you’re Dick Swab Who Almost Murdered Me?”

Donghyuk looks between them. “I’m sorry, am I missing something.”

This can’t be happening. Not to Hanbin. His memory goes further back and pops out an image of the curly haired boy from the library, longboard beneath an arm staring at him before startling away. Hanbin was still confused of what that had been about?

“He was the idiot who jumped in front of my car!” Hanbin pointed an accusatory finger at Bobby who actually looked quite offended.

His curls bounce around when he shakes his head, falling in pretty waves down his forehead. “He’s the guy I told you about! Almost ran over me when I was riding my longboard even when there was a clear crosswalk for students. He even told me to watch where I was going!”

“There wasn’t any crosswalk.”

“Yes there was, obviously you hadn’t caught sight because I almost died.”

Their argument is cut short as the door is banged open, Cookie hissing and running off to hide under Hanbin’s bed. Junhoe walks in with the rest of the guys, cheeks flushed a bright red and eyes hazy from the cold. Yunhyeong rubs his cold hands and blows warm air into them, going straight to the kitchen for coffee.

Scarfs and jackets are tugged off, shoes kicking the wall or hidden under tables that will make them all argue about who took whose shoes. There’s a casual conversation between them going on before they notice the tense atmosphere of the room. Junhoe looks up, blinking at Hanbin, the hot guy with the crop hoodie – who the fuck wears a crop hoodie in January? – Jinhwan who looks like he’s won the lottery, and Donghyuk’s regretful expression. Oh this is great, Junhoe cannot wait to tell Jaewon about this.

“Bobby, here let me introduce you to the rest of the band.” Jinhwan tugs Bobby, pointing a finger at Junhoe. “That’s Junhoe.” Junhoe gives him a shaka sign that Bobby returns with a cute grin that looks just a tad off from the lollipop he has in his mouth. Hanbin is practically fuming, smoke coming out of his ears. “Junhoe is the lead singer and plays guitar too.”

“Sup,” Junhoe slings a hand for Bobby to fist bump. Hanbin’s eye twitches – what the fuck, Junhoe is never nice to strangers. He’s doing this to get on Hanbin’s nerves.

“Tall kid over there is Chanwoo, plays double bass and occasionally sings as back up vocals.” Chanwoo waves, a polite smile on his lips. He seemed a little more detached than the rest of the tight-knit group who looked at Bobby with warm, welcoming smiles.

Yunhyeong comes back out of the kitchen with a huge cup of hot chocolate, whip cream on top and chocolate sprinkles poured over it. Hanbin watched in complete bewilderment as Yunhyeong handed Bobby the cup.

“Hey Bobby, how was Dr. Vega’s class?” They talked with an air of familiarity that surprised even Donghyuk.

Bobby shrugged, lips jutting into a sulk. “I hate it, she wants us to write essays every week.”

“You two know each other?” Donghyuk asks.

Yunhyeong looks at them as if remembering they were there. He laughs, shakes his head. “Oh, we had a class last year. He was the one that recommended me that club in Santa Monica, you know the one – what’s it called? Dooma, I think.”

“Wait, you got us that gig?” Chanwoo leaped from where he’d been hiding shyly behind Junhoe. No! Not you too, Chanwoo.

Bobby’s eyes crinkle up into crescents, wrinkling his nose as he smiles blazingly. “Eh, I knew the owner. He’s cousins with one of my friends.”

Hanbin’s stomach flips as their group huddles around him, eyes dizzy in adoration and wonder. Asking him countless questions that Bobby answered with a happy beam that never faltered even as the onslaught of questions became annoying. He looked like he belonged there with them – and it made Hanbin’s blood boil. Bobby wasn’t a part of this group.

“Okay! Enough of the talking.” Hanbin yells out through excited whispers and snickers. They all turn to stare at Hanbin.

“So, why is Bobby here?”

“He’s our new drummer,” Donghyuk chirped. Junhoe actually jumped and whooped, fist pumping into air as he shook Bobby’s shoulder.

Hanbin scowled, “He has to perform first. I’m not going to accept someone into our group who might not even fit our style.”

Jinhwan rolls his eyes, “Can you play Tom Sawyer–”

“By Rush? You kidding, man, I can play that blindfolded.” He picks up the drumstick that had slid beneath the couch cushions. Bobby flashed Hanbin a cocky grin as he swayed his hips and brushed past his disgruntled expression. Jinhwan leads Bobby to the large – and the only large – room of their house where they’ve added soft, absorptive material to all of the hard, reflective surfaces in the room. Expensive acoustical blankets are hung on the walls to reduce reverberation and block sounds that could easily be picked up by the mic.

Their windows were covered in dark, thick curtains to stop the sun from gushing in. Guitars hung up on the walls, a large leather couch with a worn out knitted blanket that Yunhyeong’s mother gifted them when they moved in placed neatly over the top. The room was padded in egg cartons and barrier blankets with movie posters that Junhoe had hung up because they gave him inspiration or whatever he was calling it.

It was the most familiar room to Hanbin, the place he called home. And now some stranger was stepping in, strutting towards the drums that had once belonged to Jaewon. Hanbin sat down on the rolling chair where their expensive computer equipment was placed, arms crossed and looking at Bobby expectantly. His hoodie rode up to show off more skin, his abs looking more prominent in the dim, yellow flickering lights of the room. Hanbin pretended like he hadn’t been checking him out and made a fluttering movement with his hand, waiting for him to play.

Bobby started with warming up, tapping his drumsticks loosely on the high hats before tapping on the toms. He looked like a complete natural, eyes wavering from instrument to instrument as he sat on the chair, feet on pedals and humming to a beat in his head. He closed his eyes, slung his neck back and started an easy beat with tapping the hi-hat and then the high tom before drumming the snare.

There wasn’t anything impressive. Hanbin slumped into the chair and put his face into his palm, waiting for the fill and the solo drums of _Tom Sawyer._ It sounded weird without the bass guitar or the keyboard that added synthesizers. But then it changes, something more organic that came from Bobby as he shut his eyes tightly and hung his head low, wavy hair falling past his face. The song slowly became a constant flow of one handed sixteenths with a rock solid backbeat and intricate drum syncopations.

Bobby’s grip on the drumsticks was loose but not too much that his beat sounded off. It was an even rhythm that had Hanbin tapping his fingers subconsciously on his arm. There were punctuations on the bass drum that landed on the _e_ of beat four. A crispy sound echoed from the hi-hat that closed right after the end of the fourth beat.

Turns out that Bobby wasn’t just good – he was fucking amazing. It felt bitter to admit that even if it was silent in his own head. Bobby, with his auburn ringlets and the few wavy baby hairs that curled past his ears and tangled on the huge hoop earrings, looked like he belonged right there on that drum. He didn’t just fit their style – _he was their style_.

His hands fly up, hitting the snare one last time before tapping a particular high note on the hi-hat. He was breathing heavily, chest rising up and down and skin glowing in a thin sheen of sweat. There wasn’t a sound in the room, not before he looked up with burning eyes and an even brighter smile. With the stupid cotton candy blue _dum dum_ stuck between his lips.

“Bobby! Welcome to the _Alien Blues_.”

Hanbin begrudgingly slunk into his seat and said nothing as his friends looked at Bobby the same way they use to look at Jaewon.


	3. chapter the third

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hanbin's stupid annoying mouth once again proves to be a nuisance and ends up having to agree with paying for an unnecessary date. There's also all that stuff about him having a crush on the new drummer kid. Which he doesn't. Does not. _Not. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me writing this as if i knew anything about music or instruments :))))

It’s loud. Warm. Full and cozy.

Hanbin hates it.

He’s slumped into the shitty couch in their living room, watching the new drummer kid being bombarded with questions and praises. Even Cookie has abandoned him – the very same cat Hanbin found in a ditch on a rainy Tuesday afternoon when he was seventeen years old and almost murdered Hanbin when he tried cuddling him to warm his tiny shivering body – he’s all snuggled up in Bobby’s lap. His purrs loud and content dripping in the way he gives tiny kitten licks to Bobby’s open palm.

Bobby’s shy about the onslaught of words coming from Hanbin’s friends. Which pisses Hanbin off even more and makes this guy seem less superficial from his fratboy aura and the cocky smiles. This is not how it’s supposed to work, the Bobby kid should be preening in pride and smugness, not hiding his face behind his hands, figuratively speaking. It’s in the way he huddles into his shoulders, curls his fingers into Cookie’s soft fur and flushes when Chanwoo excitedly tells him about how cool he was when he played _Tom Sawyer._ This is the kids sixth time praising Bobby, and each time it’s like he gets even more timid.

Junhoe won’t stop touching him. Hanbin has his arms crossed across his chest, glaring at the way Junhoe’s palms press soft points into Bobby’s shoulder. Jinhwan hasn’t said much, but the huge Cheshire grin says enough about how much he likes Bobby. Yunhyeong won’t stop asking him questions about gigs and future promotions, as if he were already a part of the band. Sure, Hanbin will admit that the kid is good, but he’s not _that_ good. Not Jaewon good.

“Where did you even find this guy, Donghyuk?” Junhoe leans across the table, face eager and smile bright. God, this is so weird – since when is Junhoe so buddy with strangers.

Donghyuk grins, “He’s my cousin.” Shrugs his shoulders. As if it weren’t such a big deal.

“Your cousin!” Hanbin yells out. And is completely ignored.

“Why didn’t you bring him to us the first moment we needed a drummer?” Yunhyeong lightly slaps Donghyuk’s head, fingers catching on the hoops of his earrings and tugging on them playfully.

Donghyuk whines in pain, hand coming up to pet his ear. He scowls at Yunhyeong, sticks his tongue out at Bobby when the boy snorts.

“I forgot about it, okay. He used to play when we used to attend church as kids but I never saw him playing them after I moved over here. Besides,” Donghyuk narrows his eyes and points an accusatory finger at Bobby. “Bobby knew all along I was looking for a drummer and only decided to tell me yesterday afternoon.”

The attention shifts back to Bobby who seems less timid than he was seconds ago. Hanbin narrows his eyes, suspicious about the kid, one minute he’s curling into himself and the next he’s got a haughty grin catching on the gleams of the corner of his lips. The lollipop he’d been sucking – really loudly, may Hanbin add – had shrunk until it was a teeny little blue thing. His tongue lolled out to wipe across his bottom lip, colored a dark blue.

“I don’t usually play for audiences,” He looked down at Cookie and smiled softly. It curled something inside of Hanbin. “Never really liked the attention.”

Hanbin found that quite hard to believe. Yeah, one could argue that the onslaught of praise from his friends showed that Bobby was not used to constantly being the center of attention, but Hanbin would counterargue that Bobby seem to command the entire room to focus solely on him. His performance in the studio room was enough to prove that alone, it was a truth pill that Hanbin didn’t want to swallow but he knew that having Bobby in their band was going to be beneficial for their growth and ongoing popularity.

“Well, it doesn’t matter whether you like the attention or not.” Hanbin spoke up, everyone suddenly turned to look at him. Jinhwan looked a bit worried, tugging his lip and using eye contact to tell Hanbin to not do something stupid. Fine, Hanbin will admit that he doesn’t like Bobby – annoying, apathetic frat boys are his ultimate demise – but Bobby would be a great addition to the band and Hanbin was desperate. “Because you’re in the band.”

There are big grins and excited exclaims even before Hanbin has finished that sentence. Hanbin isn’t even done making his point. “Hey! Wait, I’m not finished.” He frowns at Junhoe who rolls his eyes and says, “Aww, come on! What more do you want, he’s amazing.”

Bobby turns to look at him, his stare is hypnotizing as it keeps Hanbin frozen on his feet. Curls fall to cover his hooded, glaring eyes as he bit down on the lollipop one last time before flicking the stick into the nearby trash bin.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. Bobby will practice with us until February 7th when we have our first performance of the year, and if it turns out that he’s not well received –” Chanwoo sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes, which Hanbin very pointedly makes sure to ignore “–then,” He paused, because what was he going to say? That they’d kick Bobby out of the band? And stay drumless until summer came by? Waiting for Jaewon’s return when they could work with a random infuriating kid while Hanbin sucked it up and got over his dislike? Hanbin deflated. “We’ll just keep practicing.” He managed to grumble out through gritted teeth.

Bobby leans back in the chair, a saccharine grin plastered across his lips that made Hanbin’s blood boil. “Well, same goes for me then. It’s only fair. If I think you’re not up to my level than I’m out.”

Protests and teasing words fill the air up again, a playful twinkle sparkling in Bobby’s eyes when he balances the chair on its hind legs.

“You think you’ll be able to handle the band _and_ basketball?” Donghyuk asks, raising a concern brow as if just remembering. Which was probably pretty accurate because neither Donghyuk nor Bobby had mentioned anything about basketball.

“ _Basketball_?” Hanbin interrupts just as Bobby opens his mouth to respond. “What do you mean basketball?” He turned to face Bobby, almost drooping over the table in his attempt to seem intimidating. It seem to work because suddenly Bobby looked like a cornered bunny.

“Uh, yeah.” Bobby shook his head, trying to right himself. “I’m here on a scholarship with the D-1 basketball team. Majoring in kinesiology and a minor in music studies.” He shrug, peering through his curly hair at Hanbin. “I can handle it though.”

Yunhyeong nodded in support, which – no one asked for Yunhyeong. “You can trust him, Bin. He’s not a letdown.” Bobby squeezed Yunhyeong’s hand, smiling brightly at him.

Hanbin wasn’t completely convinced, however. “Basketball season is still ongoing. You say you’re on the team officially with a scholarship? Won’t that conflict with your schedules?” He says with a harsh tone. Jinhwan tries to signal to him that he should cut Bobby some slack, but Hanbin just wants to find anything that he can to one up the guy with.

Bobby, though, doesn’t seem affected by his tone nor his words. “I mean, it seems like the band and basketball will take much of my time. I get a lot of free time when I’m not playing basketball or practicing, not like I work a job either.” His hand wiggled into his large pockets, brows furrowing until they found what they had been searching for. It was another _dum dum_ lollipop – this time cherry flavored. “Besides, the season is almost over. The craziest part will be during March Madness and that’s still a long time from here.”

Hanbin watched through narrowed eyes as he bit lightly on the lolli. “We’ll see about that.” He said eventually and he swore the entire room let out a sigh of relief.

Hanbin doesn’t stick around much longer after that. He’s cranky and really hungry but he doesn’t feel like hanging out with his friends while they stay hung up with Bobby. It hasn’t even been a full week since Jaewon left and it seem that they were all perfectly fine with replacing him. He makes a quick ramen soup while the others ordered Vietnamese food, arguing over who would pay. Hanbin left fifty bucks on the table and got them to shut up real quick.

“You’re not gonna eat with us?” Jinhwan asked Hanbin when he noticed the younger man grabbing another one of Donghyuk’s Gatorade bottles – “Hanbin! Stop stealing my Gatorades!” – while balancing the plastic bowl full of hot noodles.

Bobby was subtly staring at them, not too subtle it seem since Hanbin caught his eyes a few times. Hanbin turned to look at Jinhwan, “No. I have a song I gotta work on, it’s making me go bonkers.”

Jinhwan looked worried. “Don’t stay up too late, ‘kay?”

Hanbin distractedly hummed and walked towards the makeshift studio room. He felt eyes following his back, knowing without any doubt it was Bobby who had been staring after him.

He wakes up because something keeps tickling his nose. It’s soft at first, nuzzling his skin before something with a pointy tip sinks into his cheek. Hanbin blinks awake, eyes bleary and adjusting to the complete darkness that encompasses the room. Something starts pulling the strands of his too long bangs, teeth nipping at his ear. Hanbin startles suddenly, glaring at Cookie who hisses when Hanbin flicks his finger across the soft forehead.

“Yeah, you’re annoying too asshole.” Hanbin mumbles, voice raspy. He’s sitting on the comfortable leather rolling chair in front of his computer, the screen and monitor turned off. The house is completely silent except for the rush of cold air that rattles the windows, their heater rumbling quite loudly as it warms the house up.

Hanbin grabs a bottle of water from one of the drawers he keeps snacks and drinks, the food he’d eaten last night is lying in a mess on the studio table. Hanbin twirls in his chair to scowl at Cookie who has become somewhat entertained by playing with a tiny little toy rat that Hanbin has no idea where he found.

He’s not sure what time it is and the blankets he has hung up on the windows don’t give any tell of the weather. Hanbin gets up from the chair, cracking his spine and popping bones – he really needs to stop sleeping in places that aren’t his bed – and picks up the trash from last night’s quick dinner. When he steps out of the door that is barely cracked open he finds the entire house to be blanketed in that early morning darkness where only spots of dark colors can be seen. Hanbin tries hard not to stumble too much into the pieces of furniture or the pictures that hang up the walls.

He grunts when he leans too much against the corner of a small table, hears whatever was on top of it scramble. The kitchen light bathes his vision in soft yellow lighting, it looks clean. Which makes Hanbin do a double take. Last night when he grabbed his food and left to the studio the entire kitchen was, well, a disgusting mess. Dirty plates and pans stacked on top of each other on the sink, plastic cartons and other trash piling up on the overstuffed bin, left-over food that no one had bothered with putting away and was rotting off in the open air. That’s how Hanbin left the kitchen last night.

Hanbin puts the trash into the empty bin with a dumbfounded expression, moving to the living room and turning the light on in there. Cookie comes running out from the corridor with another toy that Hanbin hasn’t seen in like six months, growling as he stuffs himself beneath the couch. Just like the kitchen, the living room is spotless. Well, not like super squeaky clean, but for once Hanbin can see the kitchen table surface and the coffee table glass is stain-free.

He takes a tour of the clean rooms, baffled at who cleaned them. Which one of the idiots and Jinhwan thought it was a good night to clean? When did they even clean up? Hanbin stayed up until 11:46 p.m before his eyes gave up on him and he slammed his forehead down on his expensive midi keyboard. He remembers hearing his friends shout and bellow out curses at one another while they played a “friendly” game of monopoly and then charades with Bobby’s – really annoying scratchy, unpleasant, distasteful – laugh slipping between the cracks beneath the door until well past midnight.

Hanbin can’t imagine them all deciding it was clean-up day, especially when they were practically kissing Bobby’s feet. The dark wood floors were dusted from the layer of dirt that had been accumulating for the past week, the T.V screen clean of any stains, and the couch had been rearranged from its previous slanted arrangement, the pillows and the woven blanket neatly organized. The scent of blueberries was much stronger than previous nights, tickling Hanbin’s nose when he stepped close to the flickering lights of the candles.

Even the screenplays that Junhoe used to have lying around under tables and chairs had been placed on the coffee table. The huge black shelf where Hanbin and Jinhwan collected movie dvds and a few of their favorite albums and vinyls had been organized in _ABC_ order, a few tiny items that Hanbin bought from gift shops or were given to him by his younger sister positioned in an orderly matter.

He found it odd. Couldn’t fathom who had been the culprit – or the angel – that had forced his friends to clean the apartment. Well, whoever it was that it had been Hanbin promises to take them out to dinner to whatever place they wanted. It was the least he could do after they had wiped the filthy house spotless.

Cookie zooms past him, scaring the shit out of Hanbin. “Cookie! Man, what the fuck is up with you? Are you on the nip?” Cookie blinks at him with his wide grey eyes, glowing in the darkness from the bit of pale moonlight that stripped in between the blinds of the patio door. The cat yawned, tongue stretching out to lick around its mouth before blinking at Hanbin and scurrying back into the darkness.

It was a true misfortune that Hanbin was one of those annoying people who took a while to go back to sleep. His body ached and cried to lie down on his comfy bed, but his brain was wide awake making noises and filling the silence of the house with thoughts of beats, sheets, and computer screens (and also Bobby, but no one read that).

His hoodie he’d worn today was hung on the coat rack, his leather jacket hooked besides it as well. Hanbin threw it on, rifling through his leather jacket for the loose cigarettes and the lighter he had in the pockets. The patio door glass was cold to the touch, appearing foggy from the dew of the heat inside. Hanbin took a cigarette and placed it on the corner of his mouth unlit, drew a cute little smiley face on the window.

It’s freezing cold outside. Hanbin shivers, hissing when the cold, almost wet air crawls over his sensitive ears. He hastily pulls his hood up, his hands slowly becoming numb as they lit up the tip. The wind was harsh on this particular night, Hanbin hoped it wouldn’t be too bad tomorrow morning. He hated cold, grey winter days. It took him a while to light the cigarette, getting frustrated as the wind blew the flame but eventually he managed after turning around in slow circles to find the spot that wouldn’t blow it out.

Their backyard was left untouched from Sunday afternoon. Hanbin could swear that he saw their figures, laughing and joking around with each other as music played in the background. He saw Jaewon sipping a beer and Jinhwan yelling at Chanwoo, Yunhyeong texting someone with a pout and Donghyuk pulling Junhoe into a headlock. It tugged his heartstrings, making him feel emotions he couldn’t fully dissect in the early morning hours.

Hanbin sat down on the edge of the patio curb, finger twirling the cigarette that became shorter and shorter as the wind smoked it away. Little clouds of his warm breath and the smoke billowed out through his mouth and nose, floating in soft spirals before flying away with the wind. He couldn’t see the stars, a bit sad about that as he gazed up.

He heard a soft tap from the door, turning around and seeing Cookie cocking his head to the side and meowing for him. Hanbin grinned – his heart melting because aww, _Cookie does love me._ He stubbed the cigarette and slid the door open, flicking the butt into the bin and picking Cookie up who – rather regrettably it seem – let Hanbin nuzzle his white and black spotted fur.

“Blink twice if you love me more than Bobby.” Hanbin whispered.

Cookie blinked once and fell asleep in his arms.

 _Fuck_.

Hanbin wakes up and he’s got morning wood. He frowns, he was not looking forward to showering this early in the morning. The house is silent, Jinhwan either asleep in his bedroom or doing homework while listening to music in his earbuds. Hanbin waddled into the bathroom, hair messy and goosebumps rising up his skin at the cool air since Jinhwan must’ve turned off the heater at some point.

Hanbin quickly turned it back on, no way was he coming out of the bathroom into the cold living space. The bathroom seem to be the only space besides his and Jinhwan’s room that hadn’t been touched to clean. Hanbin was actually glad for that because he was one hundred percent sure he had some lube and condoms plus a few panties’ girls had left in the house that Hanbin did not want his friends to find or looked forward to getting teased about it.

He jerks off quickly in the bathroom to the warm water – and to the thought of no one in particular! – lathering his body in Jinhwan’s fruity expensive body wash. It’s a fast and lazy shower, Hanbin coming out from the stall to a foggy cloud of heat and moisture dripping down the mirror. He brushed his teeth, applied some cream on and walked towards his room with a towel wrapped around his hips. He heard some rustling from Jinhwan in the kitchen, probably fixing up breakfast.

Hanbin wished he had slept in more, checking his phone and finding it was just 10 o’clock. He didn’t bother putting clothes on yet, his stomach kept grumbling loudly from his light dinner. Making a bowl of cereal while he waited for Jinhwan to cook something sounded like a better idea than changing into joggers and a long sleeve.

Cookie’s loud purrs echoed, very soft indie music playing from a record player. Hanbin hummed to the music, a bit surprised to find that Jinhwan wasn’t in the kitchen. But there was evidence showing someone had been intruding in their kitchen. A pan placed on the stove, a carton of eggs and butter on the countertop, and strips of bacon and sausages right next to that.

Oh this was great. Jinhwan was being a generous _hyung_ today it seem. Maybe this was his way of thanking Hanbin for keeping his mouth shut most of the night from complaining about Bobby. Hanbin felt his towel slipping slowly as he reached for the cereal on the top left cupboard. Found a bowl and poured himself an entire mountain into the bowl and grabbed milk, spilling it in.

He heard footsteps, louder than Jinhwan’s usual quiet ones. Didn’t think too much of it as he grabbed a spoon and opened the fridge to place the gallon back in. His heart almost blew out his chest when he heard a whistle and then a familiar raspy voice.

“Damn, I came into a lovely view this morning.” Bobby was there in the kitchen. In _his_ kitchen. Looking much softer than last evening too. His hair was pushed back with a bandana, soft curls pooling past his nape and a little brow piercing gleaming in the incandescent lights of the kitchen that Hanbin hadn’t seen before. Man, this guy had studs everywhere. He wore a huge sweater that swallowed his frame and made him look narrower, falling to his upper thighs where his legs were covered by loose joggers. He looked smaller than Hanbin, lips glossy and eyes lined with kohl as he smirked at Hanbin.

Hanbin came back to his senses and reached for his towel instinctively. “Fucking hell!” Hanbin groaned, patting his chest where he could feel his heart beating out of its cage. “How’d you get in?” He probed.

Bobby cocked his head to the side, biting his bottom lip and ignoring the question. “You know what? That offer still up to give you a lap dance?” He pulled himself closer into Hanbin’s space, twirling his hips. “I don’t think I’d mind too much if I gave you one.” He winked which snapped Hanbin out of the thought of Bobby dancing on his lap – what? no, no, not allowed!

“Was this you?” He pointed a finger at the food, eyes in slits as he gazed back at Bobby.

Bobby craned to see over his shoulder. “Oh? That? Yeah, Jinhwan said to come in tomorrow morning for practice with the band.”

Hanbin wanted to argue that _he_ was the band leader so _he_ made the decisions. But there was no use since Jinhwan had been right about practice starting today.

“Well, if you’re going to come into my house and raid my fridge than buy your own stuff.” Hanbin picked his bowl up and tightened the hold on his towel. Bobby looked down to his crotch and raised an interested brow.

“You’re gonna let me go hungry?” That was a double innuendo. Hanbin fucking knew.

Hanbin rolled his eyes and rushed into his room where he could eat his cereal in private and pretend like there hadn’t been a blush crawling from his chest to his ears.

“What the fuck is that guy doing here?” Hanbin bursts through Jinhwan’s door, finding the older man brushing his hair and fixing a few piercings.

Hanbin had been irritated the whole time in his room. He could hear Bobby singing, his voice low with a raspy tone and soft swaying lyrics. Hanbin stuffed his mouth full of the cereal, pieces of it lingering on the corners of his mouth as he drowned his cereal further into the milk. He’d immediately put some clothes on the minute he’d entered his room, feeling embarrassed about Bobby’s comments and the way he’d been looking at him.

Jinhwan looked at him weirdly. “Who?”

Hanbin rolled his eyes, falling onto Jinhwan’s messy bed. “Bobby, duh!”

“Oh,” Jinhwan turned back to the mirror. “Well, I told him that we’d practice today. The other guys should be here any minute.”

“That’s not what I meant. How’d he get in?”

Jinhwan put the comb he’d been brushing his soft, black strands with and turned to face Hanbin. He looked annoyed, hands at his hips. “Okay. I’m done with you. What’s your problem with Bobby? He’s been nice and you’re being a dickhead.”

“I’m always a dickhead,” Hanbin replied. He winced though, not such a great thing to insult himself. Jinhwan sighed, shaking his head. “It’s like you and the rest have just forgotten about Jaewon.” He eventually said after Jinhwan stared at him without blinking. He was a short guy, but Hanbin had been friends with him for a long time and knew that if Hanbin didn’t spill out his thoughts than there would be blood and tears – from him, specifically.

Jinhwan’s eyes softened. He walked towards Hanbin, sat next to him on the messy sheets and patted his thigh reassuringly. “We haven’t forgotten him. We can’t, he’s like our best friend but Jaewon isn’t here right now. Bobby is.” He grinned encouragingly, ruffling Hanbin’s strands. “So, quit being such an ass.”

Hanbin pouted, “No promises.”

They hear the door opening, whines of _hurry up’s_ and _it’s fucking freezing balls outside, get the fuck in Chanwoo_! Hanbin and Jinhwan turned to look at each other and burst into laughter when they heard Chanwoo’s painful scream. The air had a mixing scent of blueberries, eggs, bacon and sausage. Pans had been neatly centered on the table, a few plates and forks neatly placed next to them. Glasses of orange juice were also beside the food, swirls of hot smoke floating above the breakfast.

Junhoe was already serving himself, thanking Bobby with a full mouth. Hanbin hadn’t vowed to Jinhwan he wasn’t going to argue with Bobby much, so he didn’t thank Bobby or even touched the food when he sat down next to Chanwoo. He missed the fallen expression on Bobby’s face when he instead grabbed the bottle of water over the juice.

“Where’s Donghyuk and Yun?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Junhoe said, handing pieces of the bacon to Cookie.

“Stop giving Cookie bacon! You know his farts will stink the place up later.” Hanbin threw one of the spoons at Junhoe who reflexively dodged it. This conversation has happened one too many times before.

“They’ll be here any minute–” Jinhwan started just as the front door opened again and the voices of Yunhyeong and Donghyuk followed in. They stepped into the living room, cheeks flushed a rosy color and with little specks of dew scattered over their hair. Donghyuk shook his waves, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Oh my god, who made food!” Donghyuk rushed to the table, half his jacket hanging from his sweater covered shoulder as he grabbed a sausage and popped it into his mouth.

“Our godsent angel.” Junhoe said, practically making love to the food. Hanbin sneered in disgust.

“Bobby, this is why you’re my favorite cousin.”

Bobby grunted, grabbing himself a plate. “You have two cousins and I’m one of them.”

“Yeah, that’s why I said you’re my favorite.”

Yunhyeong had to scoot between Junhoe and Donghyuk with a foldable chair. Hanbin scrolled through his phone and ignored the way saliva drooled in his mouth when he saw the way his friends ravaged the food. Was it really that good? Or were Hanbin’s friends just a bunch of famished growing men who had no self-control when it came to eat?

“So,” Donghyuk interrupted loudly, halting the conversations that had been happening between his friends. “What made you and Jinhwan clean the place last night?”

It seem like everyone else (minus one person) had just barely noticed the clean living room. Junhoe blinked twice as he twisted around in his chair, whistling while he observed the area. “Wow, I forgot I had those books here. Was wondering where they went.”

Jinhwan too looked stunned, “Hanbin? Did you clean?” He craned his delicate neck, eyebrow raised.

Hanbin shook his head, “No, but whoever did it is going on a fully paid dinner and getting a kiss from me for cleaning the place.”

They all regarded each other, waiting for someone to say it was them. Slowly, one by one, heads turned in disbelief to stare at one particular person. Bobby had his knees pressed against the edge of the table, grinning as he played with Cookie. He would wiggle his fingers and then make little noises as he tickled the cat playfully. The guy was completely unaware at the way everyone was staring at him with jaws agape.

Bobby, after a few long minutes of awkward silence, seem to finally become conscious about the lack of noise. He looked up, eyes round and shrugged his shoulders in question.

“What?” He curled a few strands behind his ear nervously.

“Did you clean the house?” Jinhwan asked.

Bobby blinked blankly before his features lit up. “Oh? That? Yeah, remember you told me to stay a bit afterwards to listen to a few of the songs, Jinhwan? Well, after everyone left I decided to organize a few things. No big deal.” His eyes closed up on Hanbin, who gulped at the reminder of his past words. Bobby’s grin turned into a full blown smirk. “I think you owe me a date and a kiss.”

Hanbin suddenly regretted every single thing he’d done in the past and in another lifetime. This was karma getting back to him for being such an ass, Jinhwan had used his freaky witch powers and was punishing Hanbin. Look at him now, eating his words.

“Jaewon is going to have to bring me Tom Hardy naked in a box back from London if he wants to get back into my books at number one.” Junhoe said, making the rest of them (except for Hanbin because he was still dumbfounded) snicker along. “Bobby, where have you been our entire life?”

He giggled, finally letting Cookie go. “In Virginia. Or ask Dong over there why he never invited me along.”

Heads turn to glare at Donghyuk who looks startled at the sudden change. “Hey!” He frowned cutely. “I have invited him, he’s just always busy with basketball.”

“Wow,” Jinhwan got up from his seat with his plate, stopping to pat Bobby’s auburn waves. They looked much softer, less curly and more frazzled. But his dark lined eyes contrasted with the gentle aesthetic of his clothing choice. “You didn’t have to do that Bobs, but thanks. Hanbin will take you out on that paid date.”

“And kiss?” Bobby teasingly asked.

Hanbin snapped out of his shock induced mind. Blinking his eyes fast and blushing to the roots of his hair when his friends started goading Bobby like middle schoolers playing outside. “That was a joke!”

“Yes, he’ll kiss you too.” Jinhwan had a sickly-sweet smile gracing his lips, looking like he’d just won the lottery. This was going to be hung above Hanbin’s head for the rest of his life. Yunhyeong mockingly kneaded his shoulder, giving him puppy sad eyes that were actually laughing at him.

“Hurry up and finish eating, practice in ten.” Hanbin growled out, stomping to the studio room and ignoring his friends and especially the way Bobby followed him.

“Hey,” Bobby’s voice sweeps right up his sensitive ears. Hanbin jumps, feels his cheeks heat up when he notices the close proximity of Bobby’s and his space. He hadn’t heard the guy sneaking up to him, too busy tweaking the synth knobs on the keyboard.

“What?” Hanbin whispered back annoyed. He took a step backwards and scowled at Bobby.

Bobby didn’t seem to care much, leaning closer into Hanbin. He smelt like sweet candies, like cherries and cotton candy on breezy sunny days at Pacific Park.

“I have basketball practice at 3, is that fine?” Bobby looked nervous, his eyes were on Hanbin’s but he kept twitching and he wouldn’t stop wringing his fingers together. His sweater clung to his hands, more sweater paws than anything. When Hanbin didn’t say anything back he looked away, cheeks round as he blew cherry scented air. “I mean, I can leave later than that–”

Hanbin gulped and cleared his throat, a rather noticeable blush on his cheeks. He could see Jinhwan peering at them with curious eyes. Four hours of practice sounded good, they’d probably finish earlier than that. It was a bad idea to make the band play nonstop after a month long break, Hanbin spoke from past experience.

“Don’t worry, we’ll probably be done by 2:30-ish.”

Bobby blinked. “So is that a yes?” He looked genuine, eyes shining beneath the soft glow of the LED lights that lit the room up in a blue hue.

Before Hanbin could answer back, Yunhyeong – who had been eavesdropping like the nosy guy he was – responded. “You’re fine Bobby! Hanbin doesn’t grind us too much when we’re getting back into shape.”

Next to Yunhyeong, Junhoe scowled where he was plugging his electric guitar into the amplifier. “You say that as if you even did anything.”

Yunhyeong simply smiled and gazed at Junhoe over his shoulder. “Don’t be jealous Juney.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Besides,” Yunhyeong continued, unbothered by Junhoe’s stormy expression. “I _am_ doing something. I have to start posting and editing stuff for our social media accounts, need to tease the audience.”

Jinhwan spoke up before Junhoe ended up slamming his precious guitar on Yunhyeong’s head. “Stop arguing. And Bobby, you’re fine man. You’re not going to do much anyways.”

Bobby nodded, but faced Hanbin for confirmation. Hanbin shifted in his feet. “Sit over on the drums, Jinhwan’s right. You can set up a beat whenever you want, we’ll be playing covers of songs. No originals since we’re kind of rusty and it sounds weird without drums.”

Bobby nodded and grabbed the drumsticks that Chanwoo handed him. “So, like, what exactly is everyone’s role? You guys are a bigger band than most indie groups.”

Hanbin busied himself with looking for the sheets to the cover songs, but responded back. “I’m the leader, composer of the band too. Wrote and produced all the songs.” Bobby whistled, sounding impressed which made Hanbin not want to look up and get caught red-faced.

“I’m the main vocalist, also the rehearsal director. I keep an ear out for any mistakes and take the lead during practices since Hanbin ends up paying attention to the sheets.” Jinhwan spoke up after Hanbin, he settled himself on the stool and fixed the mic stand for his height.

Donghyuk nodded, grabbing his guitar case. “You know me, I play bass guitar for the rhythm or the saxophone.”

“Play the guitars, mostly electric as the lead singer and guitarist. Also, sometimes I help Hanbin out with lyrics since I minor under Literature studies.” He picked up his pink colored electric guitar, flashing pearly white teeth at Bobby. “I also direct and write the music videos.”

Bobby perked up, looking impressed. Hanbin had no idea why his stomach flipped at that. “Woah! Junhoe, that’s so cool. So you made the video for _Rock A Bling_?”

Junhoe nodded proudly, preening at the way Bobby awed.

“He’s a film major, likes bragging about it to everybody.” Hanbin said with a roll of eyes, but a tiny smile on his lips. He was proud of his friend, secretly, no way was Junhoe going to get it out of Hanbin that he thought Junhoe was cool for being accepted into the program.

“They have an acceptance rate of 4 percent. I was _that_ good.”

“Yes, we know that because you never shut up about it.”

Bobby laughed, sparking the rest of them to chuckle too at the way Junhoe crossed his arms and mocked Hanbin under his breath.

Chanwoo was already sitting down on the foldable chair, twirling the bow in his hands. “I play the double bass,” he swept a hand over the large string instrument. “Sometimes I sing as back up vocals, but not much since I dislike being the center.”

“Unless it’s for his solos.” Jinhwan said from in front of the boy. Chanwoo shrunk into himself, looking shy.

Yunhyeong pointed a finger at Chanwoo, “He’s the top double bass player in the school’s symphony.”

Bobby was impressed, straight eyebrows raised high up on his bandana covered forehead. “Seriously? That’s badass. So you’re like a double bass major then?”

Chanwoo nodded, “Yeah, minor in marine biology.”

“Okay, so you get the point. We’re a weird bunch and we make music, enough talking and more practicing.” Hanbin yelled out, clapping his hands. He finished modifying the electric piano and nodded satisfied when he played a D-flat sound and looped the synth to produce a deep sound. Hanbin met Bobby’s gaze, “I’ll send you the drummer sheet, that way you can come by and practice. I’ll have a one on one with you two weeks before the performance, kay?”

Hanbin didn’t wait for Bobby to answer as he tapped an easy _1,2,3_ beat as a start off. The rift of Junhoe’s guitar reverberated smoothly, Jinhwan’s soft vocals a vibrato as he sang into the microphone. Hanbin’s fingers without any telling of his mind began to play the keys, bouncing from edge to edge of the piano. They played _The Jungle Giants_ in the style that best fit them, twisting the chords here and there while Chanwoo deepened the range.

Donghyuk’s fingers twisted the strings of his guitar, tongue poking his cheek outwards as he focused on playing just as Junhoe started to sing alongside Jinhwan. Their voices complimented each other so well, Hanbin was surprised to note how well they sounded. Usually playing without a drummer made them sound uneven, and while that was still true, they didn’t sound like the complete nightmare Hanbin had been building in his head.

In fact, Hanbin was so absorbed in their play that he didn’t notice when the snare started to gently slide along Chanwoo’s double bass. Bobby was tuning in, a simple hit from the mid-tom’s and his foot pressing on the bass drum pedal. His eyes were closed, brows meeting between the space that separated them. His lips were shiny, tinted a dark red as he mumbled to himself and started to make his presence more known.

Hanbin almost messed up his part, distracted by Bobby. He shook his head, crossing eyes with Junhoe who had been staring at him and Bobby. There was a teasing smile already playing there, fingers strumming strings and sweat starting to cling to soft strands. God, out of all the people who had to stare it had to have been Junhoe? This was _not_ Hanbin’s week at all.

They finish just as the clock hits two. Hanbin can’t hear anything outside of the room, but he can already feel his instincts as a cat owner that Cookie is begging for food. He was lenient on the band today, something they all make sure to tell him about.

Junhoe is the first to open the room, hair wet with his sweat and gleaming in the colors of the bulbs above. Cookie stopped his meowing as soon as the door opened, eyeing them with his grey eyes before wrinkling his nose and running back into the corridor. Hanbin switched off his instrument, yelled to Junhoe that he should feed the cat.

Bobby was fixing the drum sets, tightening his bandana around his forehead and running slim fingers through the soft curls. He glance up when he felt Hanbin’s shadow, tiny beads of sweat splattered across his nose. (Hanbin did _not_ fight the urge to wipe them off.)

“You were good,” Hanbin praised. Bobby straightened up, but didn’t smile. Or at least he tried not to, it was sort of endearing how he tried to come off as serious when Hanbin could tell he was pleased with the compliment. Not that it was a compliment, just an observation. The distinction was quite important here – for Hanbin, at least. “Come again tomorrow, we’ll keep getting adjusted to you and you to us.” Bobby nodded, gave him a thumbs up and then Donghyuk appeared next to him.

The living space was much cooler than their studio. The T.V was playing a few boring 80s sitcoms on a low volume. Hanbin checked his phone and noticed that he had a few text messages from Jaewon. He typed back a message, feeling a bit guilty when he decided against sharing the news that they had found a new drummer. It felt weird to tell his best friend someone had already replaced him, someone who the group had accepted and welcomed with warm, open arms.

“Do you need a ride?” Hanbin heard Jinhwan ask Bobby. Hanbin didn’t bother looking up, scrolling on his phone. “Because Hanbin can give you a ride if you need it.” Now that made Hanbin look up, glaring at Jinhwan.

But Bobby shook his head, pulling his hood up to cover his curls. “No, I just texted Minho the address. He’s already outside actually.”

“You’re leaving already?” Junhoe questioned as he popped up into the living room.

Bobby nodded, “Yep. But I’ll come again tomorrow.” He waved at them, Hanbin pointedly stared at the black screen of his phone. “See ya.”

Hanbin finally looked up just as the door shut and caught a glimpse of a white car parked outside their driveway. The remote was on the coffee table and Hanbin picked it up to put on Netflix while the others decided on what would be for lunch.

“So,”

Oh no.

It’s started.

Hanbin ignored Junhoe. Flipping through the movies he hadn’t caught up with yet.

“You like him don’t you.” It was no question of his, a mere teasing statement. Hanbin slapped Junhoe’s hand away when the younger pressed a finger to his soft cheeks. “Cute.”

“I don’t like him, fuck off.”

Jinhwan appeared behind them, leaning on the couch. “Pick that Timothee Chalamet movie.” Hanbin begrudgingly played the movie. “And yeah, he totally has a crush on Bobby.”

Hanbin was flabbergast, now he was two against one. “No, I don’t!” He vehemently argued. His legs kicked out petulantly which only made Junhoe snort and Jinhwan roll his eyes.

“Yes you do.” Jinhwan said with that voice adults use on children when explaining to them the simple, easy things of life. Like the sun was yellow, the sky was blue, we had a moon, and Hanbin had a crush on the new drummer kid. “Your ears turn pink whenever you look at him.”

“And you move around a lot. Squirm around.” Junhoe mimicked Hanbin, got a punch to the shoulder for that.

“Ow, don’t be an ass. You were practically eye fucking him when he was playing the drums. And I saw you staring at his thighs and ass like twenty times.”

“It was two times!” Hanbin should really learn how to keep his fucking mouth shut.

Jinhwan and Junhoe were glowing. Creepy smiles and lit up eyes. They looked like Christmas had come early when it’d only been a month ago.

Hanbin humphed and stared deliberately at the movie as if it were the greatest thing he’d ever seen in his life. He thought instead of Timothee Chalamet’s cutting jawline, the pink of his lips, the curls on top of his head, the way the joggers molded around thighs that belonged to a basketball player and a round ass. Fuck, he was thinking about it.

“See, your ears are pink.”

Hanbin reflexively brought a hand to hide his ears, feeling them burning at his touch. _Damn it._

“It’s okay,” Junhoe leaned back against the couch, muttering something about how they needed a new one. “I stared too. He’s pretty to look at.”

The other three boys decide to make their attendance known, catching the attention of Jinhwan and Junhoe. Hanbin sagged in relief, catching a break from shitty friends as his other friends fought over what to eat.

“I do not have a crush on him,” Hanbin said to himself.

Out of nowhere, like an unwanted parasite, Junhoe emerged. “Yes you do.”

He truly despise his friends.

(By the way: No, he does not.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so this might turn out to be more of a slow burn than i initially thought. as you can see i have zero self-control and like to make double b secretly pine for each other. 
> 
> (p.s if you are a dead poets society reader i am so sorry !!! please forgive me, the update will take longer than i thought but i’ve been writing it between classes and i hope to post it soon. don’t know when but please bear with me, thank you :))


	4. chapter the fourth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hanbin comes to realize that Bobby isn't as bad as he thinks. Someone annoying can't have cute little Disney buttons covering a Spiderman backpack, right? Oh also, the date happens - but it's not a date! Just a friendly way of paying back. Shut up Chanwoo.

👽:

 ** _junhoe_** **🖤** ** _has invited bobby_** 🏀 ** _to_** 👽 ** _chat_**

 **junhoe** **🖤** **:** _good morning to everyone except hanbin_ 😊

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _hii  
_ **bobby** **🏀** **:** _so what time do I come by?_

 **jinhwan** **🐍** **:** _any time between 2 and 4, we’re not really going to practice tbh  
_ **jinhwan** **🐍** **:** _hanbin will probably show you the songs, sheets and other stuff like that_

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _ah okay_

Hanbin wakes up and his phone keeps beeping with messages. He blinks, groaning as he maneuvers his hand between his tangled sheets over to his phone where he charges it on his bedside table. He rubs a hand over his face, grimacing at the oil that comes off onto his fingers. The group chat has been unmuted sometime during the eight hours Hanbin was asleep. Great, another day he could have slept in until 2 in the afternoon but was instead woken up at 11 by the gremlins.

👽 **:**

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _omg is hanbin still asleep_

 **jinhwan** **🐍** **:** _i think he went to sleep like at 2 am cause he was working on a song_

 **hanbin:** _what the fuck are you guys doing at like seven in the morning_

 **yunhyeong** **🌼** **:** _hanbin,  
_ **yunhyeong** **🌼** **:** _it is 11:32 in the morning_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **️** **🐒** **:** _hey hanbin can you buy pizza hut?_

 **hanbin:** _what do I look like? A bank??_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _yes_ 😁

 **hanbin:** _stop judging me yun  
_ **hanbin:** _I’m not buying pizza_

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _i can get us pizza, got a friend who can give it to me for half off_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **️** **🐒** **:** _see, i knew we made a good choice picking you to be our drummer bobby_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _lmao chanwoo, u say that as if we’d have a shit ton of ppl lined up to be our drummer_

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _haha, dk begged me to join_

 **junhoe** **🖤** **:** _hey bobs, can you add bacon to the pizza_

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _sure thing bro_

 **hanbin:** _who tf is bobs?  
_ **hanbin:** _also, who invited him into our gc_

 **jinhwan** **🐍** **:** _don’t start and get up from the bed_

 **junhoe** **🖤** **:** _i invited him_ 🤪

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _so is jaewon – the past drummer – not in this gc?_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _jaewon doesn’t believe in group chats_

 **hanbin:** _again.  
_ **hanbin:** _when did we make you admin junhoe_ 😕

 **jinhwan** **🐍** **:** _I did_

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _??? so he’s not in the gc_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **️** **🐒** **:** _the only persons jaewon texts are hanbin and jinhwan_

 **junhoe** **🖤** **:** _it’s a thing  
_ **junhoe** **🖤** **:** _they think they’re the main characters of some coming of age film lol  
_ **junhoe** **🖤** **:** _think it’s “mysterious” or whatevs_

 **hanbin:** _jinhwannnnn stop making him admin_

Hanbin hears his phone buzz a few more times, but he’s climbing out of his messy sheets to ready himself for the day. He washes his face in the bathroom, cleaning himself up and changing into loose sweatpants and a long sleeve black shirt. Cookie meows alongside him, nuzzling his legs as Hanbin walks into the studio room.

Last night he’d been up finishing the song he’d been having trouble with. He debated deleting the entire file but had chosen not to because in his artsy kid mind he was confident he’d be able to fix it. The mini-Jinhwan in his head is glaring at him, high pitch little voice guilt tripping Hanbin into getting rid of the damn thing.

He’s about to sit down on the 200 dollar chair he bought specifically so his butt and back won’t hurt but he swears all these companies do is lie because his body aches from sitting down for long hours, bent over the keyboard and his music sheets, when Jinhwan pushes the door open wide, not stepping into the dark studio room.

“Are you going to spend another six hours on that stupid song?”

Hanbin scowls, feeling just a tad bit hurt his friend is calling his music that he worked so hard on stupid. “It’s almost done, I’ll tweak it up a bit and then that’ll be it.”

Jinhwan’s eyes soften, but there is a firm press on his lips that Hanbin has become familiar to expect as _I’m going to lecture you_. “No, you’re going to the store and buying food for the week because there is nothing in the fridge and I don’t want to eat fast food for the rest of the week again.”

“Why don’t _you_ go buy groceries, I don’t mind eating out.”

Jinhwan glares, “Not all of us have rich parents who send us money every month.”

Hanbin winces. The older boy catches it and sighs exasperated, he shakes his head and pats Hanbin’s fluffy mess of strands. Hanbin feels like he’s fifteen years old all over again and he was Jinhwan’s height, sitting underneath the benches after soccer practice with Jaewon smoking a cigarette while Hanbin moped about his parents’ expectations.

Hanbin was lucky, although he’d been pressured to become a doctor like his father or a lawyer like his mother and his parents had been very against him following music as a career path, they eventually came around and fully supported him. Every day he was grateful that his parents loved him and respected him for his personal choices. There hadn’t been nasty arguments when he came out to them, his mother hadn’t threatened to kick him out and the thought of disowning him as a son had never crossed his father’s mind.

But there were other parents who weren’t so great, so loving. And Jinhwan had experienced that personally. Which is why whenever his best friend mentions, even jokingly so, that he’s got money, cool parents, an adorable younger sister, he always feels a notion of guiltiness. He doesn’t say anything, not outwardly because he knows Jinhwan will give him a hard slap over the head for apologizing – but he’ll give in to his _hyung_ and what he wants to get done.

“Fine,” Hanbin grumbles out in a friendly manner. Jinhwan grins toothily. “I’ll even buy you that fancy wine from the liquor store you love just so you can see I’m a good friend.”

“Never doubted it, Binnie.”

They pay rent, like $2300 each month because California is expensive as fuck. Hanbin is usually the one to buy the groceries, Jinhwan pays Wi-Fi and the gas usually, but sometimes it feels like their house doesn’t even belong to them. The door bangs open, literally. Junhoe almost trips in his haste to rush into the bathroom, knees locked and bumping into the walls. Donghyuk has his phone out, recording Junhoe as he follows behind him snickering the entire time.

“Stop recording me asshole!” Junhoe yells out just as he slams the door of the bathroom open and shuts it so loudly that the pictures on the wall shake.

This is what he means when he refers to how it doesn’t even feel like the house belongs to two college musician students. They don’t ask Donghyuk what the fuss is about, even though that doesn’t stop Donghyuk from telling them the overly dramatic experience of Junhoe downing three rice milk jars from the local family owned Japanese restaurant and then proceeding to regret it because his bladder was about to explode. But hey, twenty dollars were twenty dollars and Junhoe was the typical greedy college student.

The doorbell rings but that’s only because Yunhyeong has a bit more manners than the rest of the stooges, walking in with Chanwoo who carries a huge oversized backpack that must be painful to carry around. The kid is practically hunched over, looking smaller than his six feet height.

“Whatcha got there?” Jinhwan nods at the backpack that Chanwoo sets down with a loud thump, wiping the non-existent sweat on his forehead like he’d just gone out and mowed the grass. His friends should all minor in theatre arts, chasing after the dramatics.

“I have three assignments due Wednesday so I brought my stuff.” He looks up, nodding sadly to himself.

Yunhyeong snorts, “Did you bring your bed too by any chance?”

“Or your closet.”

“Maybe he brought the fridge from his apartment so he’ll stop ransacking ours.” Hanbin snickers when Chanwoo pouts like a child, huffing as he falls onto the too soft couch and struggles with maneuvering his backpack closer to him.

Junhoe comes out from the bathroom, pants unzipped where his boxers hang low on his hips, his happy trail lightly trailing down his navel. He’s huffing for air as if he’d just run a marathon, dramatics, Hanbin tells you. He wrinkles his nose, “Dude, buckle your pants up.”

Junhoe scowls, “Shut up, you’re the one walking around with your dick hanging out and ass cheeks fully exposed. Nice way to shock someone.”

“Whose naked ass and hanging dick?”

Everyone turns as a deep voice rumbles from the foyer, the smell of pizza slowly filling the blueberry scented house. Bobby is there, shutting the door behind him with three boxes of _Pizza Hut_ and a plastic bag with two large Coke bottles. He’s got a backpack on much like Chanwoo, except his seems weightless compared to the youngest, a crew neck sweater cut off above the waist where his belly button – which is pierced, Hanbin is totally not licking his lips at the image of it – peeks out and ripped skinny jeans.

“Hanbin walks around naked,” Donghyuk responds.

Hanbin flushes, “It was one time!”

“Ooh, kinky.” Bobby throws him a wink, Hanbin very pointedly pretends like he saw nothing.

“Wait, you actually bought us pizza?” Chanwoo immediately rushes to grab a box, thanking Bobby as he flips it open and takes an enormous bite from one of the slices. Yunhyeong takes the plastic bag, following the rest of the boys towards the table.

Bobby shrugs, “No big deal, I was gonna make food but Jinhwan messaged me saying the fridge was empty.”

Hanbin narrows his eyes, leaning into Jinhwan’s space. “You two have gotten awfully close.” He whispers into the elder’s ear.

Jinhwan groans, “He asked me and I said no because it’s your turn to buy groceries.”

Hanbin doesn’t join his friends as they settle on the floor to eat, too cold of a day to hang out and eat at the picnic table outside. He instead makes himself an avocado toast with a fried egg on top and pours himself a cup of green tea. He’s surprised to find that Cookie isn’t mewling demandingly for Hanbin to feed him, usually twisting himself between his legs and almost tripping him over.

The answer is quite obvious when Hanbin enters the living room to sit on the table and finds Bobby on his back, legs stretched out, and Cookie purring loudly as he cuddles into Bobby’s warm, thick neck. Hanbin swallows, standing like an idiot there between the kitchen and the dining-living room area, blinking his eyes at the way his cat – who doesn’t regularly make it a point to become too friendly with strangers like he’s doing with Bobby – was licking Bobby’s jaw while Bobby giggles to himself quietly.

“Aww, that’s so cute.” Yunhyeong coos. Hanbin snaps out from his state of staring at the drummer kid like a creep. The two boys start to distract themselves with playing a hide and seek game with Cookie and his little rats. Hanbin feels something dark root itself firmly over his chest, his eyes twitching in annoyance when Yunhyeong and Bobby huddle closer than they should, faces almost smashing against each other–

“You’re not going to eat pizza?” Chanwoo asks through a mouthful of cheese pizza. Hanbin startles from his intense staring. Junhoe gags when wet crumbles fall past the corners of Chanwoo’s lips.

The words catch Bobby’s attention. His neck snapping up and missing the chance to steal one of the rats from Cookie. The cat looks pleased, preening as it skips around with the toy in his mouth before sprinting off.

Hanbin shuffles over to the table, “I’ve eaten too much fast food, I don’t want to gain weight again.”

“Didn’t you say earlier that you didn’t mind eating out all week?” Jinhwan asks with a raised brow. Hanbin narrows his eyes, he knows what Jinhwan is doing.

“I just woke up,” He says instead. “Pizza will keep me bloated all day.”

Hanbin takes his phone out, clicking on the docs app to search for the files of the songs he wants Bobby to start listening to since they’ve got two weeks before their first performance. “Hey Bobby, come here.” Hanbin calls out for him, rolling his name and the syllables of it between his tongue. He tries not to think too much of why his heart flutters when Bobby stands up on command for him, blinking his hooded eyes.

“What’s up?” Bobby questions, pulling out the chair in front of Hanbin. He catches Jinhwan’s eye, a warning glinting there. Hanbin rolls his eyes, waving his friend off.

“I know Jinhwan showed you a few of the songs we’ve made, but I want you to get familiar with those we’ll be performing in particular.”

Bobby blinks, “I already listened to everything you guys have made.”

Now it’s Hanbin’s turn to raise a brow, a little shocked to hear that. “All of it?”

“Well, yeah.” Bobby’s curls bounce, his entire body buzzing as if he were overly excited or nervous. A hand comes up to push his bangs away where they fall over his lashes, he flinches when one of the curly strands tangles itself on his brow piercing, wincing as he tugs it off. Hanbin can’t help but admire him in the afternoon golden sunlight that streams through the glass doors of the patio.

Hanbin awkwardly clears his throat. “Uh,” he’s lost his train of thought. “I guess I’ll give you the sheets then.” He can feel his friend’s eyes follow them both as Hanbin leads them to the studio room, colder than the rest of the house with its blocked windows and padded walls. Jaewon use to keep his physical copies of the sheet music for his drums in the drawers before he memorized them and left them to dust up.

The folder is a bit scratch and beaten up, the name _Jaewon_ scribbled over it. Hanbin looks at it a little bit longer than he should, shaking his head to right himself. He takes out the papers and throws the folder back in, searching through drawers for a new folder. “Here,” he tells Bobby when he finds a blue folder, grabs a sharpie and writes in neat blocked letters _Bobby_.

There’s an open space next to his area where most of his system is placed, a tiny little plant that he named Ryver taking up space near the corner. He grabs his rolling chair, points to one of the plastic chairs. “Go get one, I’ll show you what songs to focus on.”

Bobby grabs one and settles down next to Hanbin. He can feel his body heat, warming his side and the subtle scent of lavender exuding from him. Bobby’s stomach folds into tiny little rolls when he curves his back downwards, his abs outlined through the dark shadows of the room.

Hanbin peeks at them through the corner of his eye, how Bobby tugs the collar of his cropped crew sweater and plays with one of the many chains wrapped around his neck. One of Bobby’s hands digs through the enormous pockets of his skinny jeans, a _dum dum_ making itself known to Hanbin. It’s apple flavored, filling Hanbin’s nostrils along with the blueberry scent of the room, Bobby’s lavender smell, and the artificial apple that tickles their noses.

Hanbin switches the lamp on the desk, illuminating them in a yellow, soft color. It makes Bobby’s skin look more golden, sparkling in pretty little glittering colors of bronze. His hair looks a darker red, falling at the tips of his ear where they curled into a new pair of earrings instead of the large hoops he’d had when Hanbin met him.

“Our first gig is at this place called _Satellite & Venus_. The owner of the club is Jinhwan’s oldest cousins’ best friend’s mom’s aunt.”

“In that order?”

“Yes.” Bobby laughs, a little huff of a thing that smells of apple. Hanbin switches to looking at the sheets like they have the answers to his future. “Anyways, we usually get a pretty good crowd of people. It’s a small underrated club to be honest, most of the people who go there are the artsy kids from UCLA or local art colleges. Have you ever been there?” He looks up at Bobby questioningly, the little lollipop stuck in the corner of his mouth.

Bobby shakes his head, looking a bit guilty which Hanbin wasn’t sure for what. “Sorry, I don’t really hear much from clubs.”

“You don’t go to clubs?” Hanbin found that hard to believe. Someone like Bobby, a frat boy from the most popular fraternity on campus and who played in their D-1 basketball team, had to be a constant partier. Getting blackout drunk on weekends and regretting it the next morning, bemoaning his friend’s existence for waking him up at ungodly hours. Now why was Hanbin just describing himself?

Bobby shrugs self-consciously, “I’m always busy with basketball practice and keeping my grades up. I don’t want to risk failing a class and getting the scholarship revoked, you know? I mean, I do go out and like get shit face drunk, but not like every weekend. Only when Minho and Micah force me out. Or the guys from the team want to celebrate.”

“I didn’t expect you to know of it. You’re part of the popular circle, no way have you been at the indie underrated venues.” Hanbin smirks, likes the way Bobby kind of squirms in his chair. It feels good to know the frat boy isn’t completely indifferent to being flustered. “We’re announcing tomorrow evening that you’re our new drummer. There might be a bit of a confusion fest since Jaewon left unexpectedly but I don’t think anyone will make a fuss out of it.”

“No fangirls coming after me for taking their favs spot?”

Hanbin snorts, “We’re an indie band in Los Angeles, not a Kpop boy group. No one is coming after anybody.”

The door creeks open just slightly, a little meow being heard down below. Bobby clicks his tongue, calling out for Cookie with a palm out for him. Hanbin uses the time to flip through the sheets of the songs they’ll perform. He feels kind of bad, Bobby just started practicing with them yesterday and he’ll have to memorize each snare and beat in only two weeks since February was rolling closer and closer.

“When are you free to meet up between classes to practice?” Hanbin asks.

Bobby twists back around to face him, the lollipop lolling lazily where his lips opened in a small ‘o’ to suck the tip before pushing it back between his plump lips. His cheek protruded out in a teeny little bulge where he stuck it to the side between his teeth and walls, soft and too sugary Hanbin could bet.

“Mhm?” Bobby looked back down distracted, scratching the back of Cookie’s too long ears.

Hanbin snapped his fingers, making the cat jump in shock. “Out, you’re distracting him Cooks.”

The cats green eyes blinked into a glittering green, wide where the room lulled the shadows closer into their tiny space of yellow tones from the lamp. Bobby pouted as Cookie ran out into the living room where they could hear the rest of the group play a round of monopoly? Yep, it was monopoly, Yunhyeong was going into another one of his rants of why capitalism could go fuck itself. Ah yes, the irony of a business major telling capitalism to go stick itself in who knows where.

“Hey,” Hanbin clicked his fingers in front of Bobby’s face, his eyes going cross eye at how close they were. “Pay attention to me.”

Bobby frowns, “Say something interesting and I won’t get so distracted.”

“Oh, my bad your highness.” Hanbin mocks sarcastically. “I apologize for taking away your precious time. We have all the time in the world to memorize drumbeats.”

Bobby rolls his eyes. There. That was much better. Hanbin could deal with Bobby being an annoying brat, not the one that looked at him with wide eyes and followed him around like a puppy.

“I said, when are you free for practice outside of hanging out here in the studio?” Hanbin repeated himself, irritated. He had better things to do then be with Bobby right now, like finish that damn song.

Bobby wrinkled his nose, tapping a finger on his chin. “Well, since March will roll in closer it might get kind of tight. But it won’t get super chaotic until late February. You say we’ll practice as a band together Saturdays and Sundays?”

Hanbin nodded in response. “Yes and only during the week that we have a performance do we practice, well, most of the week.”

“Damn,” he leaned back on the chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, I guess I can skip out on a few practice meets for basketball since they’re not mandatory.”

He felt a tad guilty about that, Hanbin didn’t want Bobby to skip out on his meets for them. Sure, they all had busy lives outside the band, but Bobby’s case was special. He was on a scholarship with the team, he had to perform well both on court and off competitions and also pass his classes. He thought about saying something, maybe they could play their easier songs and a few originals that Bobby knew of so it could be easier on him and on the band too.

“Are you sure? I know you’re dedicated to your team and this might take up some–”

Bobby shook him off, “No it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I can message you my class schedule, I’m pretty sure though that we can meet on campus between our free time and use the solo labs for practice.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” Bobby had said that he would be fine practicing, but Hanbin didn’t want to overwhelm the guy. Not because he was worried about him – he wasn’t! – but because he didn’t want to push him too far with rigorous practice and lose him just two weeks before their first venue. Yeah, _that was it_. Nothing else here except the future state of the band. He didn’t want a repeat of Jaewon, it totally was not about him being concern for Bobby’s mental state of mind.

He really couldn’t find an excuse though for the fact that when he showed Bobby the songs they would perform, only three of the ten songs were originals. The rest were typical indie rock or garage band songs that he was sure Bobby had heard of. He didn’t explicitly show it, but Hanbin saw the relief in his shoulders when he slumped forward, his sweater brushing against Hanbin’s own long sleeve covered arm. There was also a much less stiff line where he’d been holding his back straight, instead he leaned back against his seat holding the three sheets looking pleased and his knees spread wide.

Hanbin didn’t mention it as Bobby took a seat on the drum seat and started to familiarize himself with their song. He was a natural and a quick learner, adapting to the beat while they focused solely on the drums before playing it alongside the other instruments. Bobby followed Hanbin’s lead like no one had before, his curls flowing every which way as his hands flew back and forth.

At one point Bobby pushed the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows. His long forearms glinting along with the rest of his skin in a glowing sheen of sweat, they were thick with muscle and his veins were so prominent as he flicked the drum-sticks between the hi-hat and the cymbals. Hanbin thought that if he touched the veins they’d pulse beneath his touch, quivering and goosebumps rising the light hairs of Bobby’s forearm.

They started with one song, working their way up between instrumentals and how Bobby would play live. Sometime between the two hours they were alone in that studio, Chanwoo came in to watch in fascination at the way Bobby hit each beat like he’d been playing with them since the beginning.

It caused something to tangle in Hanbin, he didn’t know whether he liked it or not that Bobby was so good. He wasn’t like Jaewon, sure both of them were exceptional drummers, but Bobby held onto every word of advice Hanbin gave him while also finding a way around it. Smirking whenever Hanbin would turn his lips downwards when Bobby would change a high note. Jaewon wouldn’t have done that, more of a man who sticks to the system.

“Okay, I think we did pretty good today.” Hanbin interrupts just as Bobby is preparing to open the next sheet.

Bobby snorts, “What do you mean ‘we?’ I was the one playing drums.”

“ _I was the one playing drums_ ,” Hanbin mimicked, Chanwoo was laughing at them from his position on the couch. “You’ll need me to lead you, I take control. Remember that.”

“That sounds awfully kinky,” Junhoe piped up from where he’d been leaning against the door listening to their conversation. Bobby grinned boyishly, flushing a bit and moving curls when Junhoe winked. That bastard.

“You and you,” Hanbin pointed at Chanwoo and Junhoe. “Out.”

“What! Why me?”

“I thought you had homework. Go finish that.” Chanwoo grumbled as he followed behind Junhoe, the taller boy sending Hanbin flashy grins and obscene winks. Hanbin flipped him off and turned back around to find Bobby picking his pants up, wiggling his hips and fixing the hem of his hoodie that flowed over his tapered waist. His eyes racked his body in a very obvious once over, when Bobby looked Hanbin cleared his throat and pointedly looked the other way.

“Right then,” Bobby said, bumping a friendly shoulder against Hanbin’s. He frowned, they weren’t friends. _(Not yet_ , mini-Jinhwan sang lightly in his head.) “I have class Monday’s and Wednesday’s, Tuesday’s and Thursday’s are meant for practice. Sometimes I hit the gym on Fridays and there’s band practice with you guys during the weekend, but I think I can make time for us on Friday at about 2. What do you think?”

 _Make time for us_ , what was this all about. At first when Bobby started explaining Hanbin had thought he was going to mention when he could meet him up on campus for extra rehearsals, but then Bobby had casually mentioned that _us._ Hanbin was very confused as they both entered the living room, already a mess once again with leftovers scattered about, Cookie’s toys ripped apart all over the floor, and messy sheets of wrinkled papers courtesy from Chanwoo’s frustrated drafts.

“What do you mean?”

Bobby looked at Hanbin like he had been the one saying weird things. “Our date.” He simply stated.

Date.

_Date????_

“What date?”

“Babe, you promised to take me on a date for cleaning the house.” Bobby jutted his bottom lip out, chin wrinkling up.

How convenient it was that his friends were listening to their conversation at that particular moment. “Oh yes,” Jinhwan nodded. “I remember you saying and I quote, _whoever did it is going on a fully paid dinner_.”

Junhoe peeked his hair above the couch with Donghyuk, “I heard that too.”

“Didn’t Hanbin even offer a kiss?” Donghyuk said through snickers. Hanbin flushed once again, feeling his cheeks heat up because, fuck, he did say that.

Bobby hummed, “Yep. He said he would take me out on a date and give me a kiss.”

“Yeah, but, like.” Hanbin stuttered over his words trying to find a way out of this. But every option he found was immediately thrown out when his friends started to gang up on him like the traitors they were. Hanbin tried using telepathy, maybe he could use his eyes to ask Yunhyeong for help but the only thing Yunhyeong did was give Bobby the address to a cute little restaurant in the outskirts of the city for their date.

“If we’re going on that date,”

“Aww, I knew you’d say yes.”

“I’m taking you to McDonalds or something.” He finished. Bobby blew him a raspberry, little tongue painted a dark green from his _dum dum_. “Besides, I’ll be busy Friday with lab and I don’t want to get back home late because of a date I’m being forced to go.”

“No one is forcing you,” Jinhwan tsked. “You were the one who said you’d go on a date and pay it. That’s on you.”

A car beeped outside, startling them all. “I think that’s for me.” Bobby said as he packed his backpack, he looked at Hanbin again. “I’ll meet you at Royce Hall at 1:30.”

“2:30! I have some stuff to finish.” Hanbin begrudgingly mumbled.

“See ya babe,” Bobby winked and he was gone in a flourish, walking out the door into the cold, grey weather with his hips swaying and waves dancing alongside the wind, his lower back dimples more prominent with the dull natural sunlight outside.

“Man, I can toast myself some marshmallows with how hot your ear is.” Junhoe pinched the soft cartilage of his ear, nails digging in. Hanbin winced, raising a threatening elbow.

“They’re so red. Aww, cute. You totally like him.” Jinhwan made loud kissing noises, waving his fists around in some weird display of what Hanbin thought meant two people kissing.

“I don’t even know him and you want me to go on a stupid date with him.”

Donghyuk stood up, “Hey! That’s my cousin you’re talking about.”

“Yeah.” Junhoe put his hands on his waist. “He’s our drummer, our angel. Show some respect.”

“You little,” Hanbin got Junhoe from around the neck, getting on his tip toes to push him down to tug his pink strands. There was no dignified way to fighting one of his friends in nothing but stained sweats and a long sleeve shirt with a hole at the back. He heard his friends cheering Hanbin on, Chanwoo chanting _fight! fight! fight!_ Hanbin was just about to pull away, having thought he had the upper hand here. But Junhoe liked to play dirty and really, Hanbin should have seen it coming.

He’s out of breath as he lets Junhoe go, his pink hair looking like a bird’s nest and his dark roots peeking beneath the longer strands of his hair. A blinding smile flutters over Hanbin’s lips, thinking he’s won and just then Junhoe grabs a chunk of Hanbin’s dark hair and yanks him onto the couch shaking Chanwoo and making his tablet fall on the floor.

There’s shocked gasps, Chanwoo crying out as he frantically searches for any scratches. Hanbin yelps, kicking the inside of Junhoe’s thigh but the taller boy has gotten much stronger than when they were in high school. Damn it, Hanbin regrets forcing him to go to the gym with him all those months ago, he’s definitely better built than Hanbin which gives him an advantage as his big hands start to tickle Hanbin’s side.

“No!” Hanbin screams which only prompts Junhoe to tickle him more. Donghyuk joins in, squealing as his cold fingers start to skitter over Hanbin’s sensitive neck. Before he knows it everyone is piling up on him. Laughter ringing through the room, Cookie meowing in encouragement as he watches his owner being tickled mercilessly.

Eventually they stop, calming down as they slide onto the floor. Hanbin has a hand over his stomach that rises up and down for breaths of cool air. He closes his eyes, reminiscing the moments when Jaewon was still here. He’s a little stunned to realize it doesn’t hurt that much and that at one point it’s Bobby who comes into mind, bursting into laughter with them. He tries not to think too hard on what that means.

The studio room is dark, completely blanketed in that darkness that feels interdimensional. It’s late at night and his friends were still at their home, probably going to stay the night. Junhoe comes in beside him, wanting to practice a new tune on his guitar. It is by far nothing of a gentle lull, but it feels nice to fill in the silence. Hanbin sits down on the computer and opens up the file of his song.

He turns when his eye catches sight of Jinhwan walking in, he gives Hanbin a dark look. But he doesn’t anything out loud, sitting down on the chair that Bobby had sat on earlier to scroll through his phone. And it seems like Jinhwan settling down has everyone else following his lead, the rest of the boys mingling into the cold studio room.

He had to finish a song before the deadline for the company in New York. The due date was drawing closer and closer as each day passed by and Hanbin was still stuck in the same routine of it. He blinked, remembering tired nights, forcing Jinhwan to be his substitute for whatever artist they would give it to, asking Donghyuk to replay the part of the saxophone until the poor boys lips were swollen and purple, getting mad when he realized that the shitty ass mic he had – which he should buy a new one – had been picking up noises from his loud friends.

The song was just a tad more presses of notes away from being something good. Hanbin didn’t bother clicking on the file one last time as his hand subconsciously clicked the left side of the mouse twice and he deleted it.

“There. I deleted it.”

“Deleted what?”

“The song for the company.”

Jinhwan leaned into his space, that cinnamon scent from his room sticking to his skin like cigarette ashes. He hung over Hanbin’s shoulders, arms wrapped around his neck and making it a bit difficult to breathe clearly. His friends were trying to kill him, where is Jaewon? “Oh thank God, I was tired of singing the same lines over and over.”

“Thanks for the support,” He said dryly.

“Sure thing Binnie,” Jinhwan returned with a glittering smile.

It was odd. He didn’t feel panic bubble up in his throat, no anxiety to build up when he thought of the short amount of time he had to write a new song. There was nothing to worry about, a song was already coming together in bits and pieces. He took out a new manuscript paper, this time when he started the notes all he could think about was drums and glowing skin.

Jinhwan wakes him up. There is early morning light gleaming through the blinds of his room. Hanbin grumbles, blinking swollen eyes and rubbing off the dry drool from his chin and the side of his mouth. He could hear other voices outside his room that poured in through the slightly open door.

“Get up,” Jinhwan said softly. He poured Hanbin a glass of water from the jug next to his nightstand. “I’m dropping us off at school.” He told him before he walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

Hanbin sighed, squinting an eye open to check his phone and finding it was just a quarter past eight. He, very reluctantly, climbed off his tangled sheets. Someone was showering and singing softly when Hanbin entered the bathroom and started going about his business and brushing his teeth. He thought it might have been Junhoe but when he stumbled back out into the cool air of their hallway instead of the foggy, humid air of the bathroom he bumped into a sleepy drunk Junhoe.

“Sorry,”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Morning to you too, asswipe.” Hanbin retaliated.

They piled up in Jinhwan’s SUV, tired, glazed fogs in their eyes. Hanbin almost smashed his face against the window when Jinhwan turned. Campus parking wasn’t filled to the usual since it was still a bit early. They walked together towards the main campus, slowly waking up as the sun rose higher and higher, warming their cold hands.

“Are you meeting up with us for lunch?” Yunhyeong asked him just before they went their own ways.

Hanbin thought about it. He had gotten pretty ahead in the new song, even if that meant he’d only slept two hours. But if he wanted to turn it in on time he wouldn’t be able to meet up his friends and also with Bobby. “No,” he shook his head. “I got that song and I have Bobby to do.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Junhoe’s deep tenor said beside Hanbin. Hanbin jumped, pushing him away.

“Shut up,” he said as the rest of his friends snickered.

He still had about two hours before his class started, maybe he could catch up to some sleep.

The only reason why Hanbin doesn’t end up accidentally skipping his first morning class is because his phone buzzes. But it’s not once, it’s multiple times. Hanbin grunts in annoyance as he unravels himself from his curled position on the sofa placed near the corner that everybody had designated as the _We sleep here, not hang out here._

Hanbin stretched, the library quiet like it always was. He almost tripped over himself when he saw the time in his phone and saw he had fifteen minutes before his class started. Shit, the building was halfway across campus. By the time he gets there, feeling heat and hearing the soft lull of voices he’s out of breath. The professor isn’t there but someone has taken his seat at the back, Hanbin curses the girl out in his head for that.

The only seats available are the ones in the front and while this was another major course, Hanbin found this particular class to be very boring. No offense to Pyotr Tchaikovsky or Ludwig Beethoven but Hanbin had already studied them back when he was ten years old. Everything he was being taught he’d already known, which is why he had been sitting near the floor to ceiling window at the corner to catch a few more snoozes.

His backpack falls in a thump, students relaxed in their seats with their headphones on. Hanbin uses the bit of free time to check who had been messaging him.

 **xxx-xxx-xxxx:** _this is hanbin right  
_ **xxx-xxx-xxxx:** _this was the number under your name  
_ **xxx-xxx-xxxx:** _okay i texted jinhwan and he said it is the right number.  
_ **xxx-xxx-xxxx:** _are you going to answer?_

The last message was sent just eight minutes ago. Hanbin can imagine Bobby’s annoyed frown.

 **hanbin:** _yo sorry  
_ **hanbin:** _i fell asleep_

The response is immediate.

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _are we meeting up today?_

 **hanbin:** _yes_

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _okay. i gave a gap between 2 and 4:30  
_ **bobby** **🏀** **:** _*have_

 **hanbin:** _I have astronomy at 3:30. An hour is good._

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _cool then. meet you at the studios on third floor of h.a_

He’s not so sure why he’s so nervous.

Students crowd around him everywhere. Hanbin pushes, gets a few mean looks, an old lady yells at him for being disrespectful – Hanbin calls her a boomer under his breath, but he finally manages to push himself free from the throng of hungry students from B-Plate. He’s on a time limit, only has thirty minutes to work on the song before meeting up with Bobby. The sandwich he bought was a bit expensive but it fills his stomach up as it grumbles again.

He’s stepping out the dining hall when he hears someone call out his name. The wind distorts the voice, but Hanbin can tell it’s Bobby before he’s even facing him.

Seeing Bobby outside of the commodity of his house, from the studio, and even on that dark night he’d been driving back home – it’s weird. Bobby’s not wearing a cropped hoodie or ripped skinny jeans that show off the smooth fair skin of his knees or thighs. Instead he wears, well – it’s atrocious in all honesty. Hanbin looks around his surroundings and moves closer to the shadows of the dining hall away from prying eyes when a few girls turn to look at them.

He’s riding a longboard, an old thing that looks like it’ll break with any harsh turn. Bobby waves a hand, his hair pushed back with a bandana that’s tied into a knot on his left temple. His hair flows back like the princesses in the movies his younger sister watches, showing off his squared jawline and his symmetric features. Except Bobby is far from being the pretty princess characters from a Disney movie.

His pants, for one, are inside out like as if they were in the movie _Back to the Future._ He’s wearing a hoodie that swallows his entire upper frame. An ugly tie dye thing with the _Supreme_ logo that must have cost him close to a hundred dollars. His shoes, god, Hanbin wants to pretend he doesn’t even know who this is. How is this the same guy who goes to his house in oversized sweatpants or cropped hoodies that waved above his navel? Hanbin is no fashion king, but he doesn’t think he can compare his current outfit – jeans rolled up above his ankle and a bomber jacker over a long sleeve _Nike_ shirt – to whatever the hell Bobby wears.

Hanbin waves back, more a twitchy movement than Bobby’s casual one. Bobby comes to a smooth stop right in front of him, his foot twisting the longboard up and his hand catching it. His hair is a disarray, cheeks flushed a dark pink from the cold air nipping at it. His breath smells like artificial cherries.

“You going to Herb Ap?” Bobby asks him as he pulls his hood over his head. He’s wearing a _Spiderman_ backpack with a bunch of pins that say _Support the Gays, Global Warming is Real, Save Earth,_ cute little pins of Disney characters like Boo from _Monsters Inc_. and the soda cap from _Up_. A Winnie the Pooh key chain dangles from one of the zipper pockets along with a Nemo one that says _Protect the Oceans, please!_

“Uh, yeah. You?”

Bobby hums, “Was going to print a few copies for a class but I guess I’ll do that later.” He makes no move to push his longboard back down which must mean he’s going to join Hanbin at the studios.

The walk there is awkward, at least for Hanbin it is. There is something unnerving about Bobby, he can’t quite pinpoint why exactly Hanbin feels irritated or apprehensive around the other boy. Whatever it is he wants it to stop, his heart beats a little faster every second that passes by and Bobby sidles closer and closer into his space smelling like lavender and coffee. It’s like walking on eggshells around him, Hanbin doesn’t know whether he wants to push him away or pull him closer. A little voice in his head that sounds a lot like Junhoe says, _It’s cause you are_ ✨ _infatuated_ ✨

The lobby is filled with noisy students, a speaker playing the top rap songs of the moment where a group of good looking college students sat in a messy circle. A few people called out Bobby’s name, girls sending him flirting smiles and teasing winks. Bobby returned them all with a grace of cocky air. A few times he had to jog to catch up to Hanbin’s long steps, still talking over his shoulder at one of the girls with dark skin and pretty brown eyes, tattoos covering her forearms and little flower pins decorating her braids.

Hanbin punched the elevator button to go up harder than was necessary. He wanted to turn around and tell Bobby to just hang out with those cool kids, wearing expensive clothing and talking about the party that had gone down Saturday night. Hanbin wondered if Bobby had gone for a moment, but he recalled their conversation from the previous day. Bobby wasn’t much of a party guy according to him, but the way the people were implying that he’d been there made Hanbin think twice on that.

The elevator dings, two girls walking out and paying Hanbin no mind as they giggle when they see Bobby who doesn’t even notice them since he’s so busy talking to that girl. Hanbin steps in, clicks on the third floor button and doesn’t say anything to Bobby. The only reason he notices it is because one of his friends yells out that the doors are about to close, his laughter is loud, louder in the confines of the elevator as he steps in just before the doors close.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Bobby throws him an accusatory glare.

He has half a mind to grunt back that Bobby should just let him be for thirty minutes and they’ll meet up again but he doesn’t want to come off like he cares. Because he doesn’t. “Was busy on my phone.” He shrugs, even though he doesn’t have his phone anywhere near him, only the trash of his sandwich wrapper.

Bobby stares deadpan but doesn’t say more about it. The little arrow flashes a yellow, a red 3 popping out on the digital screen. Bobby furrows his brow, “I thought the drum sets and the private solo rooms were on the fourth floor?” He still steps out as he follows Hanbin, shoes tapping loudly in the quiet hallway. The third floor is usually reserved for labs, but Hanbin didn’t want to use the first floor studios since he would only be finishing up the last pages of the sheet.

“They are, but I need to finish up some work.” He took out his university card with his I.D number and a barcode.

He can’t see it, but he can bet anything that Bobby is pouting. “Oh sure, I have all the time in the world to spare a few minutes for your work.”

“By all means, you can go back downstairs to your friends.” Hanbin didn’t stop walking until he reached the second to last door. There was a narrow, rectangular window that peered into the dark studio, red glowing lights from the interface and dust lights of the curtain window lighting it up just barely.

“Fine, I will.” Hanbin looked over his shoulder and found Bobby with his arms crossed, looking like a petulant child.

“Okay,” He shrugged just as he slid his card through the doorknob and it lit from red to green, unlocking for him. Bobby made no move to enter and Hanbin didn’t hold the door open for him either. He didn’t care if Bobby decided to hang out with the cool kids in the lobby, in fact, he didn’t care about Bobby at all.

He counts twenty seconds before the door makes a light beep sound and it creaks open. Hanbin opens the curtains and when he turns back around it’s to Bobby shrugging off his backpack and searching through it. They don’t say anything as they sit down on the table, Hanbin’s sheet opened where it was more than halfway written and Bobby rifling and highlighting certain parts of the song.

Forty minutes later and Hanbin is capping his pen back in place. His back aches as he stretches, having been bent down for what was more than considered the average time to be curved over his work. Bobby had fallen into a light sleep, little snores filling the room up as he breathed loudly. Hanbin stared at him, at the way his mouth gape open in a small _o_ and the way his nose twitched every few seconds. He looked softer, less of a frat boy and more of that puppy kid that followed him.

“Wake up,” Hanbin says more harshly than he intended. Bobby startles awake, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly. This is too intimate, Hanbin has to gaze the other way.

Bobby stretches like Hanbin’s cat. Languidly and slowly, humming in content as his spine and neck pop in satisfaction. He even stretches his legs outwards, groaning cutely. When he opens his eyes, they’re dark and blink slowly. Dark lashes fluttering on his fair skin.

“Practice?”

Hanbin nods, can’t find his voice. They take the elevator up since they’re too lazy to walk the stairs. When they enter the corridor is even quieter, an almost eerie silence that Bobby starts to cringe every time he hears his key chains and belt clink. They manage to find an empty room with drum sets, Hanbin flickers the light on, the room smelling oddly like sandpaper.

There’s not much to say, Hanbin only redirects Bobby where he thinks a solo would sound good. An earbud is placed into their ears while the other dangles abandoned, a song drifting into the ear. The pieces that Hanbin chose were purposefully the easier ones, any drummer with experience could easily play the beat. He left the other more intricate, unique sounds for when they had more time and less panicking if they would be able to manage a whole two hours playing with a new member.

The hour and thirty minutes passes by so quickly that Hanbin can’t believe he’s got class in only fifteen minutes over at the science building. But he makes no move to get up and leave, too busy being immersed with Bobby’s performance. It was surreal, he wondered what he would be like on stage. People singing, dancing, lights flashing in dark rooms, the smell of alcohol and smoke filling their nostrils.

He looked like some mythical creature that Hanbin had made up in his head. His chest rising up and down in quick breaths, face flushed from exertion, and his crooked front teeth biting down while his hands tapped the drums. Sometimes they quivered, hit a wrong note or hit in too late, but even those mistakes seem more natural than the song itself.

When Bobby finished the room was only filled with the vibrations of his aftermath and the loud sounds of his breath. They looked at each other, the air between them so charged and heavy. They had a conversation without any words being spoken, one that Hanbin couldn’t quite figure out himself. His eyes flashed down to the bitten down plush lip, gazing back up to Bobby’s eyes.

“I have class,” His voice was hoarse, deeper and scratchier than it usually was. He thought Bobby shivered at the sound of it, but when he did a double take Bobby looked normal as he tied his hair back in a messy bun. He swallowed, “I don’t have classes Tuesdays or Thursdays, but if you want you can come over to my place.” It sounded suggestive with his deep tone and the electric atmosphere between them.

“Yeah,” Bobby said softly. “I’ll think about it.”

Hanbin took the stairs, leaving Bobby behind in the room so he could keep practicing. Just before he leaves through the back exit doors he takes a look at his reflection on the window.

His ears are a bright pink.

Bobby messages him Tuesday morning that he won’t make it. His coach wants him to make up for the two days he’ll be missing for their rehearsals. He makes sure to make it clear that they’ll meet each other Wednesday afternoon and even reminds him of that stupid date which makes Hanbin groan aloud, Cookie giving him a weird look.

He can’t quite figure out if he’s glad or not that him and Bobby won’t be alone in his house. Well fuck, he showered for nothing then.

It took him pulling an all-nighter and skipping his lecture video online, but Hanbin finishes writing the piece and is halfway in the recording part. It’s much easier and less of a hassle, this time he makes sure to use the studio rooms on the first floor of Herb Ap, his music professor from his morning class releasing them earlier than the two hours of lecture. He meets up with Jinhwan and Donghyuk, all of them complaining about the amount of work piling up for their classes.

Jinhwan looks proud when Hanbin shows him the final piece just as he sends it through email. Gives him a ruffle like he was some dog, Hanbin shoves him away. They record a demo of it, something short with the few instruments they had at hand. Hanbin doesn’t think too much about how he wishes a particular person were here to help record the drums.

They eat lunch together, Chanwoo joining them briefly before he runs off to a study session. Much like last time, Hanbin and his friends are stepping out of the dining hall when Hanbin sees Bobby riding down the slope of a hill, bright _Nike_ shoes picking him out from the sea of students. Hanbin walks backwards as he waves away at his friends, doesn’t mention that he’s about to see Bobby again.

By the time Bobby comes to a halt in front of him his friends are long gone, becoming small pecks as they walk through random groups of students. Today Bobby is wearing liner just like that first night they met at his house. It lines his bottom lash line, curving out upwards just a little and making his brown eyes look more hazel in the afternoon sunlight.

“Work again?” Bobby’s lips curve tauntingly. Crooked front teeth peering at Hanbin and making him seem less smug than he was probably trying to go for.

“Nope,” he pops out. “Finished the work. Could have used your input in the drums.” He doesn’t know why he said that, never planning on telling Bobby about the main instrument of the song he wrote being a drum.

Bobby’s brows shot up in surprise, “You should have said something.” Bobby’s wearing white joggers that are too big on him, a grey tee with the words _Supreme_ written on the side, and a terrible red checkered button down thrown on top of that. It’s a warmer day than the usual winter days, the California sun beating down on their skin to warm it up as spring rolled closer.

“You’re fine, it wasn’t super important.” He waits for Bobby to ask what the specific work he’d been doing was about, but he never asks.

Like last time, people crowd over Bobby. This time Hanbin sticks close to him, but not too close that people get the impression their together _in that way_. Bobby introduces him, people grinning back and falling just a tad when all Hanbin does is blink lazily and nod politely. He doesn’t care about these people, especially the girl with the tattoos that rubs a too comfortable hand over Bobby’s elbow.

“I thought you said you didn’t like parties.” Hanbin blurts out.

Bobby looks up, hands in his pockets. “I don’t.”

Well, now it’s awkward between them. “It sounded like you go to them a lot.”

He lifts his shoulders, does that thing with his hair where he moves the curls behind his glittering array of piercings ear. Hanbin notices he does it when he’s nervous. “I live at a frat house, we’re always doing parties and sometimes,” his sentence cuts off just as the elevator opens. Hanbin walks out first, but his steps are slow as he times them with Bobby’s.

They don’t talk about it again, instead focusing on the last song. Bobby must have already been playing around with the sheets, adding his own beats and punctuations. Every time he’s alone with Bobby like this time flies by, they get into petty arguments. Entangled about how Bobby should wait before Junhoe’s solo to do his own and Bobby fighting back that it’s too predictable and he should be the first line up for solo.

It’s bantering back and forth, words said between grins and teasing eyes. If Junhoe and Jinhwan were here they’d be throwing a fit. With every quick retaliation, most of them harmless, Hanbin feels his spine fizzle up with heat. Whenever Bobby starts tapping insistently on the hi-hats because Hanbin was saying something he didn’t like, it felt like his stomach was plummeting as if he were on those rides at _Pacific Park._

He has to get out of that suffocating room, feel fresh air instead of the scent that emitted from Bobby. That lavender smell heavy on Hanbin’s tongue when he exhaled out. He’s counting down the damn seconds for them to leave, feeling this pull tugging his body and leaning closer to catch a whiff of that pretty lavender smell.

When they step out of the room, cool a/c brushing Hanbin’s heated skin and the smell of new buildings toning down Bobby’s smell, he catches Bobby searching through his backpack. He makes a little _aha_ sound and takes out two _dum dum_ lollipops. Hanbin almost blurts out another thoughtless statement, like why does he carry lollipops around everywhere he goes?

“ _Dum Dum_?” His voice is sweet, just like the sugary lollipops he holds up for Hanbin. One is a grape flavor and the other is blueberry.

“What’s your favorite one?” Hanbin finds himself asking.

“Blueberry. I hate grape flavor anything.” He makes a bleh sound, scrunching his nose just at the thought of artificial grape flavor.

“Grape is my favorite,”

Bobby hisses, “You’re gross, man.”

He hands him the grape lollipop, Hanbin watches him unravel the wrapper and fold it into a tiny square, popping the _dum dum_ into his mouth. Hanbin looks at his lollipop. He actually hates grape flavor.

He actually forgets about the god-forsaken date until Jinhwan stumbles into his messy room. Hanbin is in nothing but his boxer shorts and a loose tank top. He’s got on these _A24_ socks that climb up halfway his calf before they stop that he stole from Junhoe’s array of clothing scattered throughout his drawers. His thumb hoovers over the incognito tab of chrome, keyboard out just as he was about to type _Twink gets fucked by Dom with fat dick_.

“Were you going to watch porn?” Jinhwan narrows his eyes, sniffing the room. Fucking weirdo.

“Yes!” He groans, his cock half hard in his loose boxers. “And I’ll jerk off right in front of you if you don’t leave.” His hand flirts over the waistline of his boxers, but Jinhwan doesn’t leave. In fact, he’s got that creepy smile on that spreads his cheekbones too high up that he looks like the main character from that old movie Junhoe once forced them all to watch.

“You letting it out of your system before you see him?”

Hanbin raises a questioning brow, “See who?” He types out his favorite porn website. Feeling his heart race, a bit faster.

“You’re joking right?”

“Joking about what?” He writes out _twink_ and a whole list of past videos he’s watch pops out. He’s not even embarrassed that he likes to watch pretty boys with pretty bodies getting fucked and taking it like they need it to breathe.

“You have a date today.”

Oh.

Hanbin stares at the fast demo of the porn video he’d been looking forward to watching. A guy with dark curls wearing lacy underwear and getting his ass spanked. Swollen lips wrapping around the girth of the too big to be real dick. Contrary to what he’s watching, Hanbin isn’t that kinky.

“Do I have to go?” Hanbin finally looks away from his phone, closing the window as he plummets into his bed.

Jinhwan only glares at him. “Yes, now go shower and don’t be too much of a dickhead.”

Hanbin showers, but only because he has lab today. Not at all putting on that fancy, expensive cream Yunhyeong bought him for his birthday and totally not unwrapping the face masks that Jinhwan has beneath the sink to make his skin look nicer.

 **hanbin:** _hey man, can you do me a favor?_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _depends. am I getting paid?_

 **hanbin:** _no ???_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _great.  
_ **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _not interested._

 **hanbin:** 😕  
 **hanbin:** _cmon man, remember that time i took care of your drunk ass and even let you sleep in jinani’s bed even tho i could have died_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _so???_

 **hanbin:** _pleaseee_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _don’t you have a date with bobby today?_

 **hanbin:** _stop calling it a date. I’m just paying him back for cleaning the house that you and the other monkeys always manage to trash_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _now I really am not helping you_

 **hanbin:** **😶**

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _fineee_ 🙄 _lets hear it_

 **hanbin:** _you mind coming with me to that place yun recommended with bobby and me?_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _bro, you know that a date is usually between two people right?_

 **hanbin:** _it’s not a date!!_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _I don’t want to third wheel_

 **hanbin:** _no third wheeling because it’s not a date.  
_ **hanbin:** _ughhh I don’t even want to go, I just want to sleep_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _sucks to be you ig. own up to it  
_ **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _he’s excited for it. just sent me a pic of his outfit, it’s kind of cute!_

 **hanbin:** _wait I have to dress up too?  
_ **hanbin:** 😭😭😭  
 **hanbin:** _i was just going to wear pjs and take him to Mickey D’s_

 **chanwoo** **⚾** **🐒** **:** _that’s mean_

Hanbin rolls his eyes. Why is everyone so chummy with Bobby? What do they know that Hanbin doesn’t? Sure, fine he’ll admit that sometimes Bobby is cute and he does a lot of things that your typical frat boy basketball player wouldn’t do and that kind of makes his heart flutter and do weird jumps like when he sucks on that _dum dum_ like he purposefully wants Hanbin to get hard during practices–

Damn it. He’s off topic again. The point here is that Bobby has his whole group of friends lying on his palm. Hanbin is obviously the only one with the braincells because he hasn’t yet fallen into the traps of the venomous snake. He says this while rummaging through his closet for his favorite pair of black skinny jeans that bring out the bubble butt that Jinhwan tells him makes people swoon and throws on an _Acne Studios_ grey tee he bought when he went to South Korea.

He sprits on some _Gucci_ a la Italian fragrance and fixes his hair so the bangs that fall over his forehead are side swept upwards. If he doesn’t look at his ears than he can pretend he’s doing all of this because he wants to look nice. For lab. His one hour long lab.

Jinhwan must be in his room and Hanbin takes advantage of his friend not being there to approve of his outfit. He doesn’t want to hear him babble about trying to impress Bobby on their “date.” He tops of his choice of clothing with his oversized leather jacket and black _Vans_. His clothing is light for the cool breeze of the late morning, he keeps subconsciously fixing his hair every three seconds.

A door cracks open and Hanbin can hear familiar footsteps that sound light and airy rush out from Jinhwan’s room. Hanbin snatches his backpack, grabs the keys from the little table, and rushes out the door into Jinhwan’s SUV.

“Wait! Let me see if you’re wearing something nice!”

“Bye _hyung_!”

He’s chuckling as the motor engine is charged to life. Jinhwan slams the front door open but Hanbin is already out of the driveway and buckling his belt.

 **jinhwan** **🐍** **:** _please tell me you’re not wearing those hideous pajamas and that chanwoo is lying and you are not taking bobby who cleaned every inch of our shitty ass garbage land house to fucking mcdonald’s of all places?_

Chanwoo, that little snitch.

He’s distracted through his lab. Cannot find the will to concentrate on working with his first assignment and the bored voice of the TA. His hands are jittery and shaky, his heart doesn’t know the meaning of calm down for it beats and skips beats and staggers over them. When there is something being looked forward to, time comes to a slow snail pace. The pen dangling in his fingers keeps tapping on the surface of his table, making a few people turn around and stare at him.

He stares them right in the eye and taps louder. The ten minutes before lab ends feels like ten hours. Hanbin takes a quick nap and then he’s shaken awake from someone who bangs their backpack against Hanbin’s back. He gets a mini heart attack, that feeling like you’re about to fall to your doom and the entire body jolts awake. Ten minutes have passed but Hanbin feels like he slept for two hours.

 **bobby** **🏀** **:** _date?_

Hanbin sends him a thumbs up. The next hour and a half is spent with Hanbin only getting a few things done. The weather outside is an infinite horizon of bright blue skies and strings of thin clouds floating above. The sun burns a bit more than usual, but is it a welcome change as Hanbin climbs down the steps of the building and slings his leather jacket over his shoulders.

He spots Bobby with such ease. And has to stop in his tracks.

Here’s the thing. Bobby doesn’t look exceptionally different. He’s not suddenly this hot shot basketball player with bulging biceps and a lean stomach with the hint of abs visible when he wore cropped hoodies. There’s no crazy glow up and transformation. In fact, he’s dressed much simpler.

His legs are incased in tight – and he means skintight – dark grey skinny jeans with two holes ripped at the knees. The shirt he wears has been cut to hang above his navel, the silver of skin much lighter than the golden kissed tone of his face and arms. He’s got a black jean jacket with a bunch of tattered holes that he must have bought from some indie thrift store that was more expensive than its worth. And finally there are a pair of thick combat boots with loose laces on his feet.

Bobby hasn’t noticed him yet. Face looking up with closed eyes as the sun bathed him in a warm orange glow. Hanbin scuffles forwards, the noise diverting Bobby’s attention.

“Wow, you look good.” Bobby bites down hard on his lip, as if he hadn’t meant to say that. It boosts Hanbin’s ego.

He shuffles awkwardly, “Thanks. Uh, you too.”

Bobby stands up then, picking up a bag Hanbin hadn’t seen earlier. It’s one of those sport duffel bags, looking a bit heavy. Hanbin wants to grab it from Bobby, but he feels like that would be stepping some line. What line, well fuck if Hanbin knows?

Bobby looks like he’s always been there by Hanbin’s side on the passenger seat. He doesn’t ask permission to connect his phone to the Bluetooth, playing _Post Malone_ at a low volume. His fingers fiddle with his phone. His hair gleams like fiery flames atop his head, shiny and looking soft. They’re bouncier too around the front layers that frame his face as they brush downwards, a barely there half part. Every few minutes he brings his hand up and curls the front pieces behind his ears where two black butterfly earrings glint.

Hanbin kind of wants to take his hands off the wheel and grab the hand, hold it so Bobby will stop it.

He’s heard of the restaurant that Yunhyeong told Bobby about, but he’s never been there. It’s at the top of a glass tall building, the sky reflecting against it making it look like some kind of Inception reality. “That’s the one.” Bobby points at the building were a balcony with umbrellas and tables looms above.

Hanbin enters the parking lot and realizes pretty quickly on that this isn’t just any restaurant. It’s a French eatery, the expensive kind and not like the hole in the wall one near campus that not a lot of people knew about that made great French meals and who the owner absolutely adored Hanbin. He has to pay freaking valet to find a parking spot, Bobby doesn’t seem to notice the type of place it is yet.

The courtyard is beautiful. Lovely red couches and sofas bundle up in a casual atmosphere. The beige tones of the brick wall add to the accent of French aesthetics with the pretty little green vines that crawl up the walls. Bobby stares at it in awe, Hanbin gazes at him. A host leads them to a corner table for two where a glass barricade is the only thing that separates them from the edge of the building.

She hands them the menu, says something in French and then leaves. “What did she say?”

Hanbin shrugged, “I don’t know, but I think it was French.”

“No shit, sherlock.”

“Then why are you asking me?”

“Because,” Bobby tells him as if he were dumb and needed to be explained things in a simple tone. “You’re always acting all high and mighty.”

He returns the scowl, “Is that any way to treat the person who is paying for your food today?”

Bobby’s face lits up in a grin. “You’re right. I can show you different ways to thank you.” His voice is something low that settles deep in Hanbin’s bones and mind, feeling like a small flame that flickers and cackles in the shadows of Bobby’s eyes.

A waitress appears in front of them. Bobby orders a dish with the word rabbit in it in broken French. Hanbin just wanted a burger from McDonalds, not the – Christ, his eyes almost pop out – overly expensive dish of the chicken supreme. They’re brought bread and drinks in the meantime, the sun glowing brighter and warmer as the afternoon rose.

“How do you and Yunhyeong know each other?” Bobby puts his hand on his palm, his elbow resting on the glass table.

“He’s my cousin.”

“Really?” His blinks are slow, almost deliberate where little streaks of eyeliner paint his lash line. Hanbin didn’t notice earlier, but his lips looking sticky, glossy and shiny.

“Did the two of you take classes together?”

One of Bobby’s fingers starts to twirl a curl, Hanbin’s eyes zoom into the movement. “Uh yeah!” He coughs into his fist and looks away. “Met him in a class, yeah.” It sounds more like he’s whispering it to himself.

Honestly, Hanbin thought it would go two ways. Either they’d be painfully awkward, avoiding looking each other in the eye or trivial arguments would bubble between them until an actual fight broke out and they would be banned from ever coming back to the French restaurant. But – it turns out to be neither. They don’t talk much, discuss minor things that didn’t seem important that Friday afternoon but would mean a lot later when Hanbin was asleep thinking of Bobby.

When their food came they dug in like starving men. Not at all embarrassed that they were very much moaning as they slurped and bit down. They were grateful that there weren’t too many people around to stare at them in disgust.

“Fuck, this is so good.”

Hanbin nodded at the dish, “What is it?”

He shrugged, the name far away from his mind. “Don’t know but it’s delicious.”

Hanbin recalled the words rabbit in the dish and he couldn’t help but think it was quite cannibalistic that Bobby was tugging his teeth into the soft juicy meet and eating carrots when he himself resembled a bunny. He was more distracted with watching the way Bobby opened his mouth wide for the food, twirling the carrots into the buttery sauce and licking his tongue for any leftover on his lips.

“God, this was fucking wonderful.” Bobby rubbed his stomach where it peeked out, smoothing the little bulge that had appeared after finishing the dessert they had ordered. Hanbin hummed, blinking softly as he felt himself undergo a food coma. It also didn’t help that he had front view seat to the belly piercing, a little dragons head with beady, sapphire jewel eyes glassy and sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. It curled into Bobby’s belly button, smoothing over it. Hanbin kind of wanted to poke it, finger it and feel its weight, the cool touch compared to the warm heat of Bobby’s tummy.

He snapped out of it when the check arrived. Barely managing the gasp of shock when he saw the price. He kept it in though, not wanting Bobby to hear and ask about it. But he must be terrible at keeping a straight face since he stood up straight. “How much is it?”

Hanbin did not look him in the eye. “Not that much, uh here.” He passed his credit card to the lady, yeah he’s going to have to use the money his parents send him to pay for that expensive ass meal. Bobby keeps bothering him the whole way back down the elevator, poking too strong fingers into his sensitive sides, and pouting like a child as he stomped his feet for an answer.

“It wasn’t much man,” Hanbin reassures him. Bobby doesn’t look convinced.

“I’ll take you to McDonald’s next time,” Bobby promises. There’s a bit of a coy glint there in his chocolate brown orbs, but he looks tense, huddling into himself. He was ready to throw off the offer, this date between them was enough for Hanbin. But seeing Bobby play with the lint of his jeans, knees pushed against his chests on the passenger seat and curling his ringed fingers over the pretty locks and twists made Hanbin stop the words of rejection from billowing out.

“Okay,”

Bobby sighed out in relief. “You can drop me on campus near the basketball courts,” He pointed a thumb at his duffel bag. “I got practice.”

The rush hour forced them to stay an extra forty minutes driving on the highway back to Westwood Village. Hanbin made a turn when they got closer to the main campus, taking a shortcut to the courts further away from the campus and closer to the dorms. There were a few parked cars there already, boys in shorts and thin tees dribbling a ball and laughing while _Migos_ played.

Hanbin parked the car, nodding at the guys playing. “Well, here we are.”

Bobby made absolutely no move to leave the car. And Hanbin pretended like he didn’t know what was coming.

“What about my kiss?”

He hoped the glare was enough to stop Bobby from asking agin, but all it did was making him sigh annoyed and exasperated. “I have to do everything, don’t I?”

“What are you–”

Bobby’s hands are cold, like super cold which is unexpected. It’s honestly more unexpected than the way his face was inching closer. He thought Bobby would be a burning furnace since most of the time everything about him was always scorching and passionate like fire. But he was cold, fingertips cold, palm clammy, his wrist that Hanbin gently wrapped his fingers around was also cold.

Bobby didn’t kiss his mouth. He kissed the corner of it, a soft sweet press of chaste lips. The only thing hot about his otherwise cold body. Bobby leaned back just as fast, twisting his body as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got his bag.

“Thanks Dick Swab Who Almost Murdered Me.” The grin on his lips was addictive and Hanbin only held back because he had to dig his nails into the palm of his hand.

He groaned, “Get out of my car Fucking Stakeboard Kid.”

“It’s a longboard by the way,”

“You’re infuriating.”

“Aww,” Bobby pinched his cheek, Hanbin retaliating by flicking his forehead. “That means you love me too in Hanbin language.”

“I actually hate you. I am voting you out of the group.”

Bobby snickered, the car beeping as the door was opened and Bobby stepped out with his duffel bag and addicting smile. “Good luck with that, the guys like me too much.”

He walked backwards, eyes intense on Hanbin. Only turning around when he entered the tall fence gate of the court. Hanbin let his head fall onto the wheel and wondered how he’d gotten himself into this situation.

Just to prove a point, Hanbin drives down that same slope he’d been driving the infamous Wednesday night that he almost died. Kelly Clarkson plays from his spotify like that night except today he was driving during twilight and it didn’t have that almost magical atmosphere as he drove past perfectly cut grass and flowery bushes.

He was in the right. Bobby had been the stupid kid to crash into his car. No crosswalk anywhere, Hanbin was a responsible driver and he could already feel the smugness at being right when –

The crosswalk was right there. A sign with the word _SLOW_ mocking Hanbin.

Fuck!


	5. chapter the fifth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they sleep together. But not in that way.

Hanbin slows the car into the driveway. His mind is still replaying on a loop the feeling of Bobby’s cold hands on his face, touching him with a soft kind of delicateness that paired itself with the determination that had been set in his eyes before he closed them shut to press that soft kiss. When he parks in front of his house and turns off the engine his finger comes up to the little corner of his mouth.

It’s been a long few moments since he dropped Bobby off at the basketball court, but he swears he can still feel the warmth of his lips, a little wet where he’d licked them before puckering them and placing the sweetest of soft touches right next to his mouth. His heart races as he thinks of it again for the millionth time, remembering the scent that came from Bobby’s hair and the way his breath smelled a little like the cheesecake they’d had for dessert.

His heart is skipping beats when he unlocks the door and enters his house, lit up in soft yellow colors that came from the kitchen. Jinhwan is seated on the lumpy couch, wrapped up in the kilt blanket they had lying on the sofa for decoration. There’s a cup of warm tea on the coffee table and another one in Jinhwan’s hands.

“Hey,” Jinhwan’s voice is soft, almost like a lull for Hanbin’s sleepy brain. There’s a show being played on the television, but Hanbin doesn’t have enough energy to dissect what it’s about.

“Mhm,” Hanbin slumps into the couch, head falling to rest on Jinhwan’s lap. His eyes close involuntarily when Jinhwan’s fingers begin to card through his hair, a little sticky and clumped from the dried up hairspray he’d used to keep it side swept upwards. Jinwhan chuckles when Hanbin hums contently.

“How was the date?”

“Not a date,” He says automatically and feels regret after the words leave his mouth. It tastes bitter in his tongue where the sugariness of the dessert and Bobby’s kiss still lingered there.

“You’re infuriating and a coward. But fine we won’t call it a date.” He can’t see it but he swears Jinhwan rolls his eyes exasperatedly. “How was your little outing with the angel who saved your ass?”

“Why are you all insistent he’s an angel,” Hanbin grumbles, “He’s the opposite of that. Annoying little rascal.”

Jinhwan snorts, “He’s older than you, you know that?”

Hanbin cracks an eye open, glaring up at Jinhwan from where he’s turned his body to face upwards, legs hanging off the ledge of the couch. “You’re a terrible liar. I don’t believe you. He’s my age or like a year younger.”

Jinhwan shakes his head, bops his nose which makes him wrinkle it and lean away from any more touches. “Nope, he’s twenty two. One year older than you.” He grins, too elongated it looks unnatural. “He’s your _hyung_.”

Hanbin cringes, calling and thinking of Bobby as a hyung was a weird and distant thought for him. Not like he was saying it anyways, having grown up all his life in California he wasn’t used to speaking much Korean. Or if he did he certainly wasn’t using it to call Yunhyeong or Jinhwan hyung unless he wanted something from them.

 _Bobby hyung._ He rolls it in his tongue, feels the weight of it when he presses his tongue flat in his mouth and whispers it out. Yeah, definitely feels weird to say it. Hanbin didn’t see Bobby as a hyung, if anything it felt like Hanbin was the hyung between them. Maybe that was why he was sort of inclined with taking over things and leading Bobby.

“Does he know he’s older than me?” Hanbin questions, and he really hopes the answer is no.

Jinhwan shrugs, “I don’t think so. He’s sort of cocky and seems like he’d keep that over your head so maybe not. You do act like your forty years old though so maybe he thinks you’re older than him.”

At the aging insult, Hanbin flicks a finger over Jinhwan’s bare stomach that peeks through the shirt he wears. He snickers when Jinhwan flinches, the older only tugging his strands harsher as a punishment.

“Well, don’t tell him. He’s insufferable enough.”

“Yeah, but you like that.”

He’s honestly too lazy to argue against that. Because he doesn’t like it, he finds it annoying how Bobby does everything Hanbin tells him to but in a completely different order than he gave him. Doing things, the Bobby Way, as Hanbin has come to call it. Which sounds too endearing, like maybe Jinhwan was right.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep yet. Drink the tea that I made for you,” Jinhwan’s voice sounds faraway, like as if Hanbin were wearing headphones and the sounds surrounding him were too muffled to understand. He moves his body, arm reaching out but he’s so tired and before he knows it, Hanbin has already succumb into the hands of sleep.

As always, to the surprise of no one, Hanbin wakes up to screeching and loud rap music. Which makes Hanbin disorientated for a few minutes, trying to regain consciousness and wonder where exactly he is. Did they go to a party last night? Was he in someone’s house and got blackout drunk, passing out in one of the many bedrooms of frat houses?

No, that didn’t sound right. Hanbin blinked through bleary eyes, rubbing them with his fist and yawning so loudly he popped his jaw. He craned his neck, realizing he was in his room. The sheets he was wrapped in smelled like his shampoo and body shower, they were a dark navy blue, and there was a tiny little hole in the corner where Cookie had sunk his Mufasa teeth into when he was attacking Hanbin one fateful night.

But that didn’t explain why rap music would be playing. No one played Travis Scott in their group, they were indie kids – not mainstream hoppers. There was also a lot of commotion happening outside that made Hanbin not want to get up out of his comfortable bed on a nice Saturday morning. But that calmness can only last so long when he has annoying friends.

“Rise and shine,” Junhoe slams his door open, jumping to fall right on top of Hanbin. His brain is still muddled and heavy with sleep, Hanbin isn’t able to use his reflexes and dodge the heavy body from falling right on top of him. The air wheezes out of his lungs, punching him right in the stomach where Junhoe’s elbows have knocked near his ribcage.

Hanbin gasps, “Get off me!”

“A little birdy told me you changed the songs for our set,” Junhoe says with a cheesy wink.

“I have no idea,” a gush of air forcefully leaves his lungs when Junhoe presses his heavy weight on him, “what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Junhoe drawls, “So, you didn’t give us a set of cover songs and only three originals because you didn’t want to overwhelm Bobby?”

Junhoe grunts as one of Hanbin’s legs lift up and jabs at his dick, making the younger guy exclaim he’s in pain. “You don’t want me to have kids!”

“You’re gay, man.” Junhoe growls at Hanbin, reaching under the covers to pinch Hanbin’s stomach and get him in a headlock. He’s too bleary and his reflexes are shit since he just woke up with a groggy mind. Hanbin has to get creative before Junhoe ends up kicking him out of his own bed. He’s about to flip Junhoe over and press his face against his soaked in slob pillow, but stops just as Junhoe groans out that he’s sorry when he sees Bobby standing on the threshold of his open door.

And Bobby looks mad. He’s frowning, hair pushed back with a bandana again like last week. His arms are crossed over his chest and his left hip is pushed outwards in that exasperated way his mother used to do when Hanbin was doing something particularly dumb in her eyes. There’s a pout on his lips too that makes him seem both intimidating and cute.

“Bobby! Help me, Hanbin’s trying to kill me.”

Bobby turns from Junhoe to Hanbin, brow raised with that angry – dare he say, jealousy ridden eyes – expression.

“He started it!” Hanbin lifts his hand to point a finger, which was a bad move because he’s left open the side of Junhoe’s body that kicks upwards and flips them over until Hanbin ends up where he was fighting against not ending up.

Hanbin winces as his body hits the floor, the blanket he’d been wrapped in just barely pillowing the fall. His hip, elbow, and knee aches and burns as he maneuvers between the tangled covers and tries to flee the tousle blanket. He can hear Junhoe laughing, his head leaning over the edge of the bed to mock Hanbin’s rather pathetic attempt of flipping him off.

“Hanbin,” Bobby’s steps are soft as he stops right where one of Hanbin’s feet is bare without his sock that must have rolled off during his wrestling with Junhoe. Now that he doesn’t have Junhoe knocked over his pillow and fighting him off, he can take a – very brief, not admiring – look at Bobby.

He’s got one of those _Adidas_ track-suits on that Junhoe owns in ten different shades, the sweatpants cling to his thighs and down his muscular calves instead of the oversized sweats he wore last band practice. Hanbin gulps and resolutely does not stare at them too much. Instead he flickers his eyes upwards to the loose graphic t-shirt and the way the polyester cloth curves over his thick biceps that stretch the track jacket arms.

“Get up, go get yourself ready, and meet us in the studio.”

Hanbin is _trying_ to do that but he can’t because his legs are twisted in the blanket that is trying to eat him and half of his body is flaring in pain because he was knocked over by the giant oaf who goes by the name Junhoe. “Help me up, man.” He begs, which takes a lot of pride from him.

Bobby gives him a once over, turns around, and stomps out of the room. “Ask _Junhoe_ to help you.”

Hanbin cranes his neck, catching only Bobby’s sock clad feet walking out his room from beneath the space of his bed. He frowns, nods at Junhoe in question. “What’s his problem?”

Junhoe glares at him deadpan, rolling his eyes and muttering something that sounds an awful like he’s insulting Hanbin and his intelligence. “You know,” Junhoe starts, swinging his long legs over the bed and dangles his feet on Hanbin’s face, “Sometimes I wonder how you made it this far in life,” Hanbin wrinkles his nose and cringes away from Junhoe’s smelly feet, “You are so painfully oblivious, it hurts to watch.” Junhoe tells him, hand over his chest where his heart is and pats it gently.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Hanbin asks confused, moaning in pain when Junhoe kicks his ribs – “jeez, you’re such a drama queen, I didn’t even kick that hard” – and steps over his body to leave the room.

“It means you need to get your head out of your ass.”

Hanbin watches as Junhoe leaves his room as well, walking back out into the hip-hop filled room where his friends screech and laugh. “Hey Junhoe! C’mon dude, don’t be like that. Help me out.” A whine spills out, lying there on the floor pathetically and thinking about what Junhoe meant from his words.

Hanbin frowns. He’s not oblivious. He is very much aware of his surroundings and the people who hang around him. Hanbin would argue that he is the best at catching the odd details here and there, and what was Junhoe talking about getting his head out of his ass?

Eventually, after lots of grunting, tugging off tangled sheets, and trying not to cry when he stood up and realized just how badly his left side of his body hurt – Hanbin was able to free himself and get himself ready. He’d walked into the kitchen after putting on something that wasn’t stained or smelt of sweat and college tears only to find that the sink was filled with dirty pans and dishes, cups of juice left on the counter, and even messier than usual.

Bobby had stepped into the kitchen, freezing when he saw Hanbin for a few seconds before looking him dead in the eye and stuffing his dirty dishes into the sink, patting his shoulder as he passed by and said, “Good luck with cleaning that.”

Hanbin held back from spitting out a dirty insult, it was too early to engage in an argument with Bobby. He had to concentrate, they had a show in less than a week. _You got this, Hanbin, don’t fall for his manipulation to rile you up._ It wasn’t easy to ignore Bobby as the older guy pushed passed him and skipped away with sauntering hips, but Hanbin felt a tad proud he hadn’t started petty banter.

Not that Hanbin was the one who started them. Bobby was always at fault. Hanbin was the poor victim roped into arguing with a guy who started singing off-key whenever Hanbin was trying to make a point. It was infuriating and Hanbin didn’t have the time today to twist his thoughts around why Bobby was suddenly giving him the cold shoulder after their little hang out (after the tiny kiss) or what Junhoe was going on about Hanbin being oblivious.

They’re slowly falling back into their routine, quick jabs of insults at one another while they set up their instruments. Donghyuk is arguing with Junhoe about their choice of clothes for the weekend coming up, whatever it is they’re fighting over has Yunhyeong rolling his eyes where he’s sitting on Hanbin’s chair, tinted sunglasses placed on the bridge of his nose as if he were outside when this is the darkest room in their house.

Hanbin keeps giving Bobby fleeting glances. He feels his ears burning up as he watches Bobby fix the hi-hats and toms, feels his heart beat a little faster than what is humanly normal. He’s a little too caught up he ends up twisting the sensitive skin of his pointer and thumb finger where he’d been screwing one of the cables into his piano.

“Ow,” Hanbin hisses. Today really isn’t a good day for him, he has to limp his way across the room in search of his sheets, pretending not to notice that Bobby was also eyeing him with narrowed eyes.

Hanbin clears his throat extra loudly to catch everybody’s attention, ignoring the way Junhoe was mocking him, and played a simple tune on the piano. “I sent you guys the order of the songs we’ll play –”

“Seven covers and three originals!”

“–so we’ll practice five of the songs today and tomorrow the next five.” He pointedly ignores Junhoe’s remark and instead counts them a beat as they start with a classic indie rock song.

For the next few hours, cut in intervals where Hanbin begrudgingly orders takeout from the expensive Chinese restaurant nearby, they practice. There had been a bit of fear and doubt that they’d end up sounding awful. Hanbin wasn’t exactly a pessimistic person, but he wasn’t exactly reeling in positive thoughts like Jinhwan, giving them encouraging words when they messed up a few times and grew frustrated.

The last time they’d first practiced, Hanbin had been surprised to find they sounded decent – better than decent actually. It was almost like Jaewon was there, Bobby really was a natural and Hanbin couldn’t ignore that fact as he’d been the one mentoring him last week. And just like last Saturday, they’d fallen into that easy going, natural, and smooth direction of playing as a band.

Yunhyeong cheered them on, filming them as teasers to upload onto their stories. Having Jinhwan be their unofficial rehearsal director was a better idea than Hanbin keeping an ear out for them. Sometimes he had to hold himself back from interrupting when Junhoe’s voice didn’t hit the high note or when Donghyuk’s trumpet sounded a bit off in his short solo. Jinhwan had to snap his fingers to keep Hanbin in check, something that Bobby noticed and chuckled at and then pretending like he hadn’t when Hanbin turn to glare at him.

This time, Hanbin didn’t get to see much of Bobby playing the drums. It was a tug-and-pull game for him to not just flip his head to the direction where the drums played, holding back from staring too long to be considered normal at the way Bobby moved his arms and bounced his knee up and down with his curls swinging lightly. There were enough past images of Bobby playing – for him only, in fact – that Hanbin had locked away in his brain. No reason to get caught up with Bobby and his glowing skin.

His eyes end up betraying him when they’re finishing up the fifth song after multiple attempts. Bobby has his eyes shut, something he does unconsciously and without thought when he’s really into playing a rhythm. It’s distracting to watch him, more so since there isn’t eyes catching his vision that is steady on the oblivious boy. He winces as his fingers accidentally hit the wrong key, but thankfully no one catches the wrong note.

“I think we’re good here, guys.”

“You _think_?”

Hanbin rolls his eyes, “You all did great. I wish we didn’t have to cramp in so many songs for a gig a week before our first show, but well.” He shrugged.

“I think we deserve some ice cream for our hard work.” Jinhwan says. Hanbin agrees, nodding along naively. “Hanbin will pay for us.”

Hanbin’s eyes widen, staring at the oldest of them with an aghast expression. “Me?”

Jinhwan nods, giving him finger guns as he backtracks out of the studio with the rest of his friends following after him. Hanbin slumps his shoulders as he moves around the equipment and limps across the room. He’s almost forgotten that Bobby was still there, his face pinched in worry when he saw the way Hanbin flinched whenever he took a step forwards with his left leg.

“Does it hurt that badly?”

Hanbin jumps, knocking his hip against the wall and hitting his pinky on the corner of a wall. He howls in pain, biting down on his lip so he won’t end up crying. Apologies spill from Bobby as he hurries to pet his shoulder and hip, looking mortified with himself.

“It’s fine,” Hanbin replies through gritted teeth.

Bobby frowns, they can hear the guys from their end of the hallway, the t.v turning on as they all sink into different positions on the couch and bean bag to rest after the long practice. “You look like you’re seconds away from crying.” Bobby says honestly.

His pinky still throbs, and sure, maybe he really does want to cry because he’s stressed for the upcoming show and he doesn’t want to rant to Jinhwan or Junhoe so they won’t worry about him. When he opens his eyes, not realizing he’d closed them from the pain, he notices how close Bobby really is. His eyes go cross-eyed, Bobby’s nose a blur, and his little curls tickling Hanbin’s forehead.

“Uh,” Hanbin’s voice cracks embarrassingly and that ruins the moment – whatever that moment even was about. “Good, I’m good.”

Bobby doesn’t seem to believe him, but it seems like he’s not going to press any further. He pushes a finger against Hanbin’s chest, which ow, that hurts a little, and tells him in a forceful tone, “Don’t move.”

Hanbin doesn’t move only because if he does he might crack like the fragile glass his bones are made of. “Hanbin, where is the ice cream?”

“Take the thirty bucks from my wallet and go buy it yourself!” He yells. Jinhwan peeks his head into the hallway, the light from their bathroom that pours through their bathroom window is the only source of light. Barely seeing Hanbin’s silhouette leaning against the wall.

“What flavor do you want?”

“Cookies and cream,” Hanbin responds. Jinhwan nods and gives him a thumbs up and a wink, why? Hanbin has no idea until he realizes that once they all leave, he’s been left alone in Bobby’s presence and Cookie roaming the house lazily.

Bobby comes out from the studio, his backpack thrown over his shoulder and his hand dragging Hanbin to the couch. “Here,” Bobby puts two white pills into his palm, getting up to grab a glass of water for Hanbin. “Drink those after you’ve eaten something.”

“What are they?” He looks at them warily, gazing up at Bobby.

“Painkillers.”

“And you just walk around with these everywhere?”

“I’m a basketball player. There’s always injuries.”

Hanbin furrows his forehead when Bobby starts to collect his sheets and slink them into his backpack. He hums a low tune, not an indie song but something else Hanbin can’t recognize. “You’re not staying?”

Bobby looks up from where he was zipping his backpack, eyebrows raised up. “I have basketball practice, if I didn’t I would have made you something to eat.”

Hanbin flushes a bit. “Oh, okay.” He feels awkward sitting on the couch watching Bobby who looks like he’s trying not to squirm with Hanbin’s heavy gaze. There are words that want to spill out his mouth that Hanbin isn’t sure he’s going to completely like, it might come out the wrong way and deities forbid Hanbin blurting out something stupid.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Bobby cracks his first real grin at Hanbin. It’s just a little quirk of the corner of his lips, really, but Hanbin zeroes into it. He remembers the kiss and riding past the crosswalk.

“Wait,” Hanbin gets up from the couch, flinching when he steps a little too much on his left foot to balance himself.

“Yeah?” Bobby looks at him expectantly, doing that thing with his hair when he’s nervous.

Hanbin clears his throat. “It’s just. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime, like we did Friday.”

“Just the two of us?”

“Yeah,”

“Oh,” Bobby blinks, wringing his hands and shifting side to side. Shit, maybe Hanbin should have kept his mouth shut. “That sounds nice,” Bobby eventually says after an awkward silence.

He feels relieved but still mortified that he’d asked in the first place. “Cool,” he stuffs his hands into his pockets, smiling a little when Bobby copies him too. “We can meet up after class or something.”

“Sure. Feast sound good to you?”

Why Feast? It’s the most expensive of the dining halls on campus. “Okay, you just let me know when to meet up with you. Pay back for almost running over you.” He chuckles, brings a hand to rub over his colored nape.

Bobby’s smile dims down a little, the shine in his eyes gone. Hanbin wrinkles his brows wondering what that was about. “Oh yeah!” It’s gone in a flash and Bobby seems to be back into his usual smug self. “You’re finally admitting you tried killing me?”

“Don’t exaggerate it. I was distracted that night and didn’t see the crosswalk. I’m making it up to you.”

Bobby nods, strapping his backpack on properly and stepping back into his shoes. “I’ll text you when we can meet up for our,”

Hanbin cannot believe he’s about to say this. “Our date.”

He colors a deep red when Bobby snorts. “Date, yeah.”

“You still owe me that McDonald’s date,” Hanbin reminds him. There goes his blurting no filter mouth.

“Gotcha captain,” Bobby salutes him, his eye smile a little too soft that it leaves Hanbin breathless.

**hanbin:** _hey out of complete curiosity  
_ **hanbin:** _how old is your cousin?_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _huh?  
_ **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _which cousin_

 **hanbin:** **🙄** _bobby duh_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _oh lol  
_ **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _don’t know. he’s like two years older than me so like 22? maybe  
_ **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _let me ask  
_ **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _why don’t you ask him? he’s with you._

 **hanbin:** _you don’t have to ask him_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _mhm you’re right  
_ **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _you’re the nosy one  
_ **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _wait he just responded he is 22, old enough for you :)_  
 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _don’t ask me when his bday is cause i don’t know  
_ **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _i think he was born in december???_

 **hanbin:** _u don’t know when your cousin’s birthday is?_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _when is yunhyeong’s birthday?_

 **hanbin:** _fair point_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _anything else you would like to know? how he likes his eggs in the morning? or his favorite movie? favorite color? maybe what his ideal type is?_

 **hanbin:** _goodbye_

 **donghyuk** **👁👄👁** **:** _you’re his type btw_ 😏

 **hanbin:** _byeeee_

Hanbin awakens from his short nap when his friends all stumble through the narrow door, he blinks and rubs his eyes. Stretching his body and reaching for the pills and the glass of water.

“Where’s Bobby?”

“Hanbin, oh my god. You didn’t murder my cousin, did you?”

“I knew it was a bad idea to leave them alone!”

“Hanbin! Why are you so mean to Bobby?”

“Bobby, scream twice if you’re alive.”

His head is pounding in excruciating pain, he wishes he could go back to sleep. “Stop whining, he had to leave because he had basketball practice. No one is dead except for my soul because I’m sleepy.”

“I don’t believe you,” He hears Donghyuk calling Bobby, but Hanbin doesn’t get the chance to hear much about that conversation as he ends up rolling his eyes and falling back to sleep.

Hanbin can’t stop staring at Bobby’s contact name on his phone. The little basketball emoji mocks him as time ticks by and Hanbin doesn’t get a text for when they could meet up. He feels like a schoolgirl waiting for their crush to reply back with some mediocre message and a flame emoji attached to it.

This isn’t to say Hanbin is excited for their date, not something he’s particularly looking forward to. It’s that Hanbin would like to make sure he’s available or if he’ll have to back out and make a lame excuse as to why he won’t show up at Feast when Bobby messages him the time and day.

“What are you doing staring at your phone like that? It looks like you’re watching porn and don’t want anyone to figure it out?” Junhoe’s deep voice is such an annoying thing to hear. It’s not even Monday morning, it’s mid-afternoon at their typical spot at the pizzeria.

“None of your business!”

Junhoe mumbles something that Hanbin can’t clearly hear, but he ignores it in favor of reminiscing last evening.

Sunday had been just as good as Saturday with the practice. It had taken them a little longer to adjust to the tempo of their original songs since they were all picky about how it had to be played, but at the end Hanbin was confident in saying they were going to kill it at their show. His friends were getting cranky from all the plucking of strings and blowing trumpets, singing in notes that had their voices cracking. Hanbin ordered them Korean food from one of the local and favorite places they liked going and brought out a few beer bottles from the fridge.

The younger kids had begged and pleaded for Bobby to stay with them to eat and enjoy themselves after the rigorous band practice. Bobby had conceited to it after Hanbin patted the empty space next to him, feeling warmth bloom over his left side that still pulsed in sore pain. Bobby hopped over like an excitedly little bunny right next to him, pushing his body so his thighs rising from his shorts pressed against Hanbin’s jogger clad thighs.

“Why are you wearing shorts, it’s like fifty degrees outside.” Hanbin had teasingly chortled in a whisper while his friends fought over what movie to play.

Bobby took a sip from his cold beer, “You keep me warm.”

“Didn’t take you as the cuddly type,” Hanbin said, having to put some distance between Bobby and him so he leaned forward to eat from his plate.

“Why? Cause I’m a frat boy?”

Hanbin looked over his shoulder, grinning a bit at Bobby’s offended glare. “No, you just seem like the type to flinch away from pda. You always look awkward whenever that girl with the tattoos touches you.”

Bobby had bit down on his bottom lip, playing with the fraying edge of the label from the bottle. His nails scratched down on it, fingers running over the beads of water that dripped down. “Well, you look like you hate touchy people and I always watch you hanging off from Jinhwan or pinning Junhoe down.”

Hanbin gulped and almost choked down his drink. He coughed, Bobby patting his back in panic. “Fine, fine.” Hanbin said through gasps. Was – was Bobby _jealous_? “I – I’ve known them for a long time. I don’t really mind the touching,” he shrugged. It was both a lie and truth. Here was the thing, Hanbin was a naturally touchy person. He thrived in physical contact despite his indifferent demeanor and looking like he’d stab anyone who so much as put a hand over his shoulder. His friends found it annoying sometimes, but ultimately got used to it after years of friendship.

Having Bobby close to Hanbin was trouble for his heart and mind. His body didn’t know how to react and the logical part of his brain kept telling him to put a three foot distance between him and Bobby. Obviously, Bobby didn’t care about the hints Hanbin dropped and instead scooched forwards and closer to him. His arm wiggled in the space of Hanbin’s forearm and the hand traveled down to his hand.

“Then you won’t mind doing this,” Bobby’s fingers were cold like last time. Intertwining with his own in a rather intimate way that made Hanbin tint a pink color. His eyes were bugging out from his sockets as he stared at the knobby fingers of Bobby’s and his own more slim ones. The hand was too cold, almost worrying Hanbin. It probably had to do with all the wearing shorts and track jackets that did nothing to obscure the cold air outside and him playing basketball that was making Bobby’s body feel like he were some vampire with no body heat.

Hanbin was a bit embarrassed and didn’t want his friends to catch them holding hands so he pulled them both closer to the coffee table and stuffed their woven hands into the pockets of his oversized hoodie. Bobby had looked at him questioningly but hadn’t said anything else as Yunhyeong grabbed his attention.

Hanbin is brought back to reality when a body sinks right to his, smelling of lavender and sickly sweet sugary lollipops.

“Hey,” Bobby’s snuggled up in a teddy jacket, the thing looking huge on him with the fluff. The zipper was pushed all the way up his neck, covering part of his chin and his little nose peeking out in a shade of pink. Little ice dews from the cold rain outside were scattered over his auburn frayed curls, looking frizzy wet and a lot more loose.

“Sup,”

Bobby smiled toothily, unzipping his teddy jacket. Hanbin was almost sad it had to go away so fast, Bobby really did look adorable layered in all those sweaters.

“Dude, why are you wearing all those clothing items like we’re living in Alaska?” Donghyuk asks, stuffing another slice of pizza into his mouth.

Bobby rolls his eyes exasperated. “Everyone is worried I might come down with something since I’ve been having shivers lately.”

“Are you sick?” Hanbin butted in horrified. Bobby couldn’t get sick!

“No,” Bobby shook his head with a laugh. He thanked Yunhyeong as the older handed him a plate of two supreme slices and a soda. “I’m sensitive to the cold, especially when it’s rainy like this. Been like that since I was a kid and my mom orders Minho and Micah to huddle me in all this shit.”

Under the teddy jacket, Bobby wore an oversized sweater that looked soft from the inside and probably had two more long sleeve shirts underneath that. Hanbin almost screamed when one of Bobby’s cold ass hands accidentally pushed under his hoodie and met heated skin. Bobby flushed an even more red color and apologized, catching the curious eye of Jinhwan who looked between the two of them. Bobby’s hand grabbed Hanbin’s unoccupied one and thrusted them into the warm pockets, holding hands under the table.

“Wow Donghyuk, congratulations for winning best cousin of the year award.”

“Aww, come on! It’s not like I’m his mom who baby’s him like he’s still two years old.”

“Hey! Mom baby’s you more than me.”

“Please stop talking, people are staring.”

Lunch is passed with excited murmurs for their performance and hoping that the weather would have a change of heart and give them back their sunny blue sky. The week hadn’t started so great, an onslaught of cold rain that prickled their skin and strong winds that kissed their cheeks and noses a fury red had everyone on edge.

Stepping out of the pizzeria with Yunhyeong and Bobby in tow, they’re met with grey sky and no sun. Campus looks even more depressing from across the street. Hanbin is glad that it’s Yunhyeong of all people who walks with them, his older friend is less likely to comment about the mysterious way Hanbin and Bobby waddled with their fingers tangled and in his hoodie pocket.

“I think it’s cute you two are holding hands,”

Or maybe not.

“Not a word, Yunhyeong.”

The older laughs lightly, but doesn’t say anything more while Bobby zips himself up. Hanbin feels regret when he has to let go of the slowly warming hand because he has to enter class, neither of them mention the hand holding as Hanbin waves Bobby off and enters the too warm class auditorium.

His stomach sinks when he realizes Bobby didn’t say anything about Feast or meeting up.

Hanbin is just going to pretend like he never said anything in the first place. Every time he’s in the comfort of his bed, Cookie curled up next to him, watching the thunder light up the night sky outside, he feels humiliation pool over his body at the reminder of how Bobby was blowing him off.

It angered him a little. Which was stupid because it had only been a suggestion, not something set in stone. Bobby was a busy college student, playing basketball, juggling classes, and memorizing his parts in the band as the weekend rolled closer. It made Hanbin feel regret linger in his stomach when he realized how petty it was to be mad over something Hanbin had been so against in the first place.

He’s glad it’s Wednesday and he won’t have to worry about class too much. As always his music theory professor drones in such a monotone voice that Hanbin has to shake himself a few times to not end up falling asleep. The clock moves at snail pace, Hanbin doodling over the margins of his notebook and even coming up with a few verses for songs that sound nice.

The class, even after it’s been dismissed, sluggishly walk out through the door. Hanbin nods at his professor as he walks out with Jennie and Michael discussing in low voices what a terrible mistake it was to take the class at late hours in the evening. Hanbin nods, he’s taking a nap in his car before driving home. Jennie laughs and Michael bumps shoulders with him telling Hanbin he’s lucky to have space and quiet since he has to ride the bus.

They all shiver when the doors slide open and they trek down the steps of the building. Hanbin is about to say his see ya’s and walk towards the slowly emptying parking lot when he hears Bobby’s voice.

“Hanbin!”

Hanbin spins around, stunned to find Bobby huddled into himself on the bench next to the building. He’s wearing his teddy jacket and a black beanie, but that doesn’t do any justice to his body with the growing cold weather as night falls and the air becomes frosty and windy, chilly as the sun sets.

“Uh, I’ll see you guys later.” Hanbin says in a jumble of words as he sprints towards Bobby. “What are you doing idiot?”

“Don’t call me an idiot. I was waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Bobby has his legs pushed against his chest as if that were his shield from protecting himself from the wind. His cheeks are a bright pink, it looks comical and fake, like a doll’s makeup with how pale his skin looks as the moon glows above. His hands are stuffed into the sleeves of his jacket and his teeth chatter, lips looking an almost blue color and cracked dry.

“Fuck, how long have you been here?” Hanbin asks as he helps Bobby stand up. The dumb brat almost topples over, Hanbin has to keep his hand steady on his waist so he won’t fall over.

“Uhm,” Bobby hesitates.

“Whatever,” Hanbin mumbles angrily, “Let’s get you in the car and warm you up before you die on me.”

“’m not gonna die.” Bobby stutters through his clattering teeth. Hanbin grabs Bobby’s backpack and the longboard under the bench while also holding Bobby close to his body heat in an attempt to warm the kid up.

He throws his and Bobby’s stuff into the back of the car, helping Bobby inside and buckling him up before jogging to the driver’s side and turning the car on. He doesn’t think it’s such a great idea to put the heater up all the way, ends up placing it at a medium setting and shrugging his leather jacket off to wrap around Bobby’s front.

“Why didn’t you stay inside the building like a normal person?” Hanbin nags him.

Bobby pouts, “I thought you had a short class, I ended up falling asleep.”

Hanbin turns to look at him flabbergasted when he’s at a red light. “You fell asleep in this cold, rainy, windy weather?”

Bobby huddles further into the clothing so only his eyes peek out, wide and blinking slowly like a wary animal. “I was tired.”

Hanbin huffs out a laugh. This is unbelievable. He drives a little faster than normal to reach his house, not saying a word to Bobby as he helps him out of the car. Bobby protests a few words before silencing at the glare Hanbin throws him.

Blueberries greet them and Hanbin gets a sense of déjà vu as he helps Bobby step through the threshold and the orange lights of the candles flicker in the direction of the wind that seeps in. Jinhwan yells out a greeting, but Hanbin is too busy supporting Bobby’s weight and assisting him in removing his shoes.

“Yo, you’re here pretty fast. Did class finish – what’s wrong?” Jinhwan says in alarm.

Hanbin glowers at Bobby and only feels a teeny bit bad when Bobby flinches. “The idiot over here tried getting hypothermia.”

Jinhwan frowns, concern suddenly filling around his eyes and mouth as his hand makes contact with Bobby’s too cold forehead. “Get him into new clothes and force him into the couch in a blanket.”

“Guys, I’m good. It’s just a little cold.”

“You just said on Monday that you get cold shivers, if you feel worse tomorrow we’re taking you to the doctor.”

“Not you too nagging me, Jinhwan hyung.” Bobby says in Korean, Jinhwan throwing him a few curse words as he rushes into the kitchen to prepare a hot bowl of soup and tea.

Hanbin sets Bobby down on his bed, looking through his clean clothes for something to wrap Bobby up in. Cookie keeps Bobby entertained, the guy complaining to the cat how his owners are so bossy.

“We wouldn’t be if you had used your brain and didn’t stay outside for three hours.” Hanbin grabs a few sweaters and two pairs of sweatpants, placing them on the bed. He points at them, “Put those on.”

Bobby sulks like a child but does as Hanbin says. He turns around to give Bobby some privacy while he searches for fuzzy, warm socks Jinhwan bought him as a gag gift for his birthday a few months ago. When he turns back around, Bobby has already tugged on the second sweater, looking small and fluffy in the layers of clothing.

Hanbin laughs airily, throwing the socks Bobby’s way. “Those on too.”

Bobby mocks him under his breath and takes his _Nike_ socks off to roll the fuzzy _Spirited Away_ themed socks on. He leads Bobby back into the living room that is much warmer and wraps him in the blanket they had thrown over the couch for decoration.

“You two are worse than Minho and Micah,” Bobby snarls as he’s forced to gulp down the chicken soup.

“I feel for them if they have to deal with you pulling stupid stunts like this.” Jinhwan scowls and force feeds him another spoon. Hanbin in the meantime removes the beanie and instead pulls the hood of the sweater over Bobby’s curly head. The kid looks like a kid. Bantering with Jinhwan and wincing at every swallow from the too salty soup.

Jinhwan keeps an eye on Bobby and forces him to down the tea as well. “But it has no sugar,” Bobby whines.

“Don’t sleep in the cold,” Jinhwan retaliates.

He feels exhaustion pull his lids, the sleepiness from earlier coming back to haunt him before his body had raced in alarm when he found Bobby half frozen outside the building. Jinhwan wraps him up in another blanket, placing a soft pillow on the couch for Bobby to sleep on.

“I can go home, no need to worry about me.”

Jinhwan shakes his head, “It’s late and your friends shouldn’t have to be worried about your stupid decisions.”

“They’re going to be worried anyway if I don’t get home soon.”

“I’ll text Donghyuk to tell them you’re sleeping here. Now, sleep.”

Bobby fell asleep pretty quickly for all his whining and moaning that he wasn’t tired. When Jinhwan finally left to sleep in his own bedroom, Hanbin stayed back just a few more minutes. Bobby was a healthy guy, he exercised, ate nourishing food, played basketball, and was eager to prove himself in any way athletic. It made Hanbin wonder why in the darkness of the night, the light of the television filtering over Bobby’s sickly pale skin, Bobby looked so drained.

He made little wheezing noises, wrinkling his nose and shivering before it went away. Hanbin pulled the blanket closer to his neck and walked into his room, kicking his pants off and slipping into one of his hoodies to fall asleep. His dreams were filled with cold hands and warm smiles, the only thing bright in the cloudy, dull week.

Hanbin startles awake when he feels a cold hand clamp down his shoulder, shaking it. He blinks and adjusts his eyes in the darkness, peering through it until he finds a shadow. Moonlight streams in through the fabric and blinds of his window and Hanbin makes out Bobby wrapped in one of the warmer blankets, peering at Hanbin through sleepy brown eyes, covering his face to his nose.

“What?” Hanbin’s voice is gruff with the tiredness of sleep, he’s so glad he doesn’t have class tomorrow.

Bobby peeks his head out from the blanket, “Your living room is cold.” He says in a whiny, pitiful voice.

Hanbin shrugs, “There’s more blankets in the closet door to the left.” He doesn’t get what Bobby wants from him, Hanbin is kind of cold too. He flips over the opposite side, straining an ear to listen to Bobby’s footsteps pad out his room and search for more blankets.

But no such thing happens, instead all Hanbin hears is pathetic sniffles and chattering teeth. The image of Bobby waiting for him outside, huddled for warmth pops out in his head. A mini Junhoe laughs in glee as Hanbin sighs loudly and exasperatedly. He moves away from the middle to make space for Bobby, opening the covers of his bed.

“Come on, get in.”

Bobby doesn’t waver to clamber into the sheets, blanket still wrapped around his body. Hanbin puts some space between them, but Bobby makes no such moves of giving him space and instead sticks himself onto Hanbin’s side like glue. Bobby’s hands travel to where his hoodie rides up his tummy, freezing hands splaying over the warm skin.

“Holy shit,” Hanbin shivers and recoils from the touch, pushing Bobby’s hands off of his stomach. “You’re still freezing cold.”

Bobby hums, “Can’t sleep.”

“How can you? You feel like an iceberg.”

Bobby twists and turns until he’s got his face – nose just as cold as his hands – pressed into the warmth of his neck. He hears him make a contented noise, humming happily to himself as he nuzzles and burrows into the area where shoulder meets neck. His breath is hot, feeling like mist as he breathes into the skin. Lips tickle the delicate sweep under his earlobe when Bobby’s tongue peeks out to lick his lips quickly.

Hanbin is immobile, tense while Bobby keeps purring like a kitten. Slowly, like a robot awakening, Hanbin maneuvers his body until his chest is pressed against Bobby’s side curled into him, face still snuggling his neck. Bobby is still so cold, Hanbin has half a mind of calling Jinhwan and forcing Bobby to go to the hospital. But, Hanbin is really sleepy, and Bobby smells kind of good.

“Mhm, don’t go away.” Bobby whimpers when Hanbin gently pulls away.

Hanbin shakes his head, “Here.” He pulls his hoodie over his head, handing it to Bobby. The boy glances at him curiously, head tilted to the side as he looks from Hanbin (his bare muscular chest) and the hoodie. “Hurry and put it on, I want to go back to sleep.”

Bobby pulls it over the two sweaters he wears. He thought it would be suffocating but he feels nice to have it, giving him a bit more heat as he falls back into the bed and looks at Hanbin’s side as a way to communicate to lie back down. Hanbin huffs, rolling his eyes and falling in a heavy heap on his pillow. Bobby waste no time to curl back into him, Hanbin wrapping an arm over Bobby’s waist while one of Bobby’s thighs pushes over Hanbin’s navel.

He feels warm, comfortable, and much more relaxed than he’s felt in weeks. Bobby’s nice to sleep next to, smelling like lavender and the winter, frosty air. Cookie mewls and stretches, slinking over to place his warm, furry body between them. Sleep pulls him, only startling when a wet kiss is placed on his jaw.

“Thank you.”

Hanbin looks at Bobby with sleepy eyes, “For what?”

Bobby sighs, “For taking care of me.”


	6. chapter the sixth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hanbin is very obviously whipped but how can he not when Bobby makes his brain go haywire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii, i forgot where i was going with this story so i had been writing bits and pieces for a few days and remembered how much i was missing this story. anyways, i realized the word count is over 40k which makes it the longest thing i've written and bobby and hanbin haven't even properly kissed, the slow burn really is a slow burn. it's going to take a while to get them to that kissing stage, so hang in there! 
> 
> missed you guys, hope you like this chapter ;)

Hanbin wakes up to the early morning light streaming across the covers of his bed. Cookie curls himself into a little black and white ball at the edge of the bed, completely oblivious to the world. Hanbin blinks bleary eyed, wondering what it was that had woken him up early on a Thursday morning when he had no class. Whatever. He’d go back to sleep, no big deal. When he tries to move his arm to slide it beneath his pillow he feels hot tingles that poke his skin like needles that spread all over his arm. Right, it was that weird, painful feeling of a body part falling asleep that woke him up.

Hanbin snaps his head up. Very confused on what is going on. He sees a huge lump lining under his blankets, curled like the furball that reminded him of Cookie. Red, frizzy curls lie loose over the pillow. Ah. Hanbin remembers. Bobby had padded into his room with cute sleepy eyes and happily made himself comfortable in his bed in the early hours of the morning.

Hanbin falls back against his pillow with a sigh. His eyes flutter as sleep tugs him again. Bobby mumbles something in his sleep, half his face hiding behind the covers, little pink nose poking out. Bobby is nice to look at. Which. Hanbin has to take a few mental steps backwards and figure out _where the fuck_ that fondness came from. Was it a side effect after Bobby almost froze to death in his arms?

Bobby gurgles again, his hand flailing around in search of something. Hanbin watches through amuse sleepy eyes and then widens them when the thing Bobby was searching for turns out to be him. Bobby sighs contently, little smile on his pretty pink lips as he nuzzles in closer. His leg curls into Hanbin’s hips, pressing himself as close as humanly possible into Hanbin’s side.

It’s through the too close proximity of their bodies that Hanbin realizes he’s got morning wood. Hanbin feels the linger of a wet dream muddle in the corners of his mind. He flushes, sinking his body further into the bed when his cock twitches interestingly when Jiwon hiccups a sweet little noise in his sleep. Okay. Hanbin needs to snap out of this. It’s weird that he’s getting harder with the sounds that Bobby is making in his sleep.

He slowly and carefully begins to untangle himself from Bobby. Sliding his hand up Bobby’s thick thigh wrapping itself around Hanbin to push him away gently. He puffs out a groan when all that does is make it even more impossible for Hanbin to escape the koala grip that Bobby has on him. It’s pointless, all the grunting and maneuvering away has only made Jiwon more adamant to snuggle into his side like a personal cuddle bear. Hanbin falls his head back onto the pillow and gives up, tries to think of anything that will kill his morning wood instead. He thinks of symphonies. Of writing music. Performing on a stage. Homework. Ew, all homework does is make Hanbin want to cry.

Maybe if he lies perfectly still with no thoughts just sleepy vibes it’ll go away. Hanbin decides to go with that route but then that becomes a dead end when he feels a hand curl at his navel where he was naked and too warm. Bobby is there next to him, wearing his hoodie that Hanbin had given him because he wouldn’t stop complaining about how cold he felt. Now Hanbin was regretting having given the older boy his hoodie. All the teasing touches do on his bare chest is make him shiver in want.

“Mhm,” Bobby moans. Hanbin fights humping the air. What he doesn’t fight, however, is the hand that starts to palm Bobby’s thick thighs. It’s out of curiosity at first, just to get a feel of them because his palm is already there so might as well. They’re covered in Hanbin’s fluffy sweatpants. Hanbin remembers handing Bobby two of them, one navy blue and the other an army green. But the only one that Bobby wears is the navy blue one, Hanbin can tell because the cloth is a little too thin.

He becomes distracted in feeling up the warm – and thank fuck that Bobby has become warm, Hanbin was missing that – leg. The muscles shift, lean and heavy from all the running he does from playing basketball. He palms the backside of Bobby’s thigh, the one curled over his hips, and slowly he teasingly runs a finger over the swell of his ass. The muscle twitches along with his butt cheek, Hanbin coos, that’s cute.

Hanbin is so completely immersed in the touch that he doesn’t notice when Bobby’s eyes flutter open with a mischievous glint and a teasing smile. He doesn’t notice how Bobby leans in closer into his neck and purposefully knocks his knee against Hanbin’s morning wood. Now that. That Hanbin _does_ notice.

His lids snap open in panic, body hollowing further into the mattress. Bobby is having none of it, tsking at Hanbin.

“You’re hard.” Bobby whispers, breath hot and wet over Hanbin’s sensitive neck.

Hanbin shudders, feeling pleasure seep into his bones when Bobby’s palm taps gentle fingers on his trembling lean tummy. They trace the shadow of his abs lightly, circling his belly button before diving lower to twist the barely their happy trail that lines down to his V line. Hanbin’s proud to say that while he’s got a narrower body than Bobby’s, he makes that up with all the veins that trace his body. Below his navel they crawl downwards his loose joggers where his dick curves the shape of the pants.

Bobby’s hand is hot and it feels so good traveling in slow circles with those pretty, nimble fingers moving two at a time where his dick is very obviously straining his pants. Hanbin’s heartbeat picks up, feels Bobby’s breath become a little too airy when his palm _grasps_ his hard dick. It feels so nice, the squeezing and fisting. His dick fits perfectly in the shape of Bobby’s palm cupping him, stroking his morning wood with gentle ease that left Hanbin breathless. Hanbin groans, thrusting upwards into the touch and tilting his neck to the side so Bobby’s hot wanting mouth could suck his skin and litter it with hickies.

Hanbin’s own hands start to grasp Bobby’s ass, groping it through the thin cloth. He moves Bobby closer until the boy’s practically on top of him. Both of Hanbin’s hands tug and pull the cloth that, unfortunately, hide the warmth of Bobby’s round ass. It’s odd, he’s so used to seeing Bobby in oversized clothing and only catching short glimpses of his ass that it feels surreal to finally _feel_ it. Hanbin shivers when Bobby licks a delicate stripe up his neck, pushing himself even closer to feel more warm skin.

Bobby’s teeth scrape a little too close to his earlobe, hand still gripping his erection and slowly jerking him off through the cloth. Hanbin growls quietly, eyes still a little closed when he turns them over and he’s suddenly on top of Bobby, grinding down on his groin. Jiwon sighs a hot gush of breath, pushing his hips along to Hanbin’s rhythm. Hanbin nuzzles Jiwon’s face, licking down to his earlobe to lick and suck on it like he’s been wanting to do for weeks now. It startles Jiwon and catches him off guard to feel a hot tongue flicker his earrings, jumping a bit, body twitching before pulling Hanbin closer into his heat.

Hanbin is engrossed in the way Jiwon is pliant in his arms, the opposite to the Jiwon he sometimes dreams of that bickers with him even in sex. He shrugs it off, thinks nothing weird of it. Doesn’t realize it yet. That this isn’t a daydream that feels a little to real, but is the actual real thing. It’s not until the hand begins to tease the hem of his pants, fingers tickling along with Hanbin’s coarse pubic hairs, that Hanbin startles and remembers that this isn’t a wet dream. This is _real_. Bobby had been about to jerk him off.

Hanbin practically jumps off the bed, snatching Bobby’s wrist and forcefully shoving his thigh off of him. Bobby blinks puzzled, mouth agape and cheeks flushed with the debauched color of arousal. He tilts his head to the side, curls pushing into his lashes. “What?”

“Bathroom. Need. Now.” Hanbin’s lost brain circuit with how hard he is. Just a few more touches and Hanbin was sure he’d have come into Bobby’s hand. What the fuck. This is so fucking weird. Hanbin scrambles off the bed and almost trips over with Bobby’s clothing sprawled across his floor.

“Hanbin, wait!”

Hanbin rushes into the bathroom and locks it shut behind him. He allows his head to fall against the wooden door and thinks of math equations he took during his first year of college to get rid of the erection.

Well. His erection does _not_ disappear even with all the math questions and the image of his greasy, dick head of a professor droning boring logical math problems in his mind. Hanbin’s fingers tremble, barely cooperating with his brain to shove the pants off and get in the shower.

He thinks about showering in freezing cold water in hopes for his dick to turn limp, but it has been a cold week and students are showing up to campus with the flu and since Hanbin isn’t fancy of getting sick and missing out on classes he ends up showering with warm water that does nothing but remind him of Bobby’s warmth.

He gives up the fight. Hanbin is only human, okay? And he tries as best as he can to not think of Bobby. His mind traces one night stands he’s had, girls he found cute, his favorite celebrities, hell he even thinks of his ex’s but what ends up happening, is their image melts away until it’s Bobby right there. Stuck in his mind. His noises. The small movements of his body. The firmness of his body. _Fuck_. This is so weird, when did Bobby go from being a nuisance to a nuisance that Hanbin had a bit of a soft spot for, took out to dates, felt butterflies in his stomach, and was having clothed sex with?

Hanbin’s hand wraps around his aching, weeping dick and strokes himself fast and painful under the running water. Pretending that he wasn’t thinking of Bobby. A betrayal and lie because Hanbin comes hard – the shivering, gasping for breath, feeling empty kind of hard – to the thought of Bobby on all fours begging for Hanbin to fuck him.

Hanbin peeks into his bedroom before stepping in and sags his shoulders in relief when he finds no Bobby. He missteps over a shoe and a tangle of shirts, almost falling to his doom and breaking his neck against the ledge of his bed, his mind replaying – against his better judgement – the image of Bobby grinding on his lap like he was meant to do that all along. _No_. Hanbin is stopping that train of thought right there. Homework. Yes, homework is a great boner kill effectiveness, Hanbin swears by it.

When Hanbin pads out from his room, wearing shorts and a dark green hoodie too big for his frame, he can hear the rumble of Bobby’s deep voice mixing up with Jinhwan’s gentle high pitch tone. A warm smile curls his lip upward, standing a little bit behind the wall corner to find Jinhwan shoving warm green tea down Bobby’s throat. Bobby gags, curling away from the teacup and shaking his head like a child.

“Drink the fucking tea or I will personally force you to swallow it down and you do not want that wrath pointed towards you.” Jinhwan says through a menacing bright smile. Bobby’s eyes widen a little bit.

Hanbin snorts, “C’mon Bobby, quit being such a baby and drink the damn tea. It’s not that bad.” He tells Bobby, making his way into the kitchen to get himself a cup of orange juice and without an ounce of subtleness resolutely makes sure to not make any eye contact with Bobby. Jinhwan looks between the two of them with raised brows, Hanbin prays he doesn’t say anything.

Bobby grabs the teacup with a disdainful expression as if the tea had personally offended him. He looks at it, the murky green colored tea with no sugar because the properties worked better or whatever bullshit Jinhwan is spewing this time, then looks up to make very, very unwavering eye contact and crooks a finger at Hanbin.

“I’ll drink it if you drink some too.”

“No. Fuck off.”

Bobby pouts, “I’m not drinking that nasty thing you call green tea then.”

Jinhwan rolls his eyes. “Unbelievable. Hanbin just drink the fucking tea before I force both of you to drink it.”

Hanbin recoils in offense, “What? Why do I have to drink it? I’m not sick.”

“Yeah well your current favorite says he won’t drink the tea unless you drink it too so man up and down it.”

“I’m Hanbin’s favorite?”

Hanbin shakes his head, “ _No_! You’re not –”

“We’re playing ten songs because of him instead of thirteen, he’s your favorite.”

“He is _not_. Shut up Jinhwan. And you,” Hanbin points a forceful finger at Bobby. “Drink the tea.”

Bobby shakes his head with finality. “No.”

Hanbin closes his eyes, breathing through his nose and rubbing a hand over his features in an attempt to calm himself down and not throttle Bobby to force the disgusting, bitter drink down his throat.

“Fine,” Hanbin snatches a cup and pours warm water, glaring at Bobby the whole time he lets the tea bag steep in the cup.

“Favorite.” Jinhwan whispers under his breath and quickly walks away when Hanbin turns the burning scowl towards him.

“You better drink it, kid.”

“Swear by it.” Bobby says with a salute. After a pained groan, Hanbin wrinkles his nose at the bitter scent of green tea and swallows it down without tasting it because he might gag if he ends up slowly drinking it to lather his taste buds in it. Hanbin shivers as the unpleasant taste of the tea that warms his throat, shaking his head and turning to now watch Bobby drink the tea. Instead he finds the older boy hopping off the counter and placing the cup gently into the sink.

Hanbin raises a brow, “Did you just throw the tea down the sink?” Okay that’s it. Let the band go without a drummer, Hanbin is throwing Bobby out into the cold, rainy weather and will not feel an ounce of guilt for it. What a little shit, he didn’t even drink the tea.

“No. I drank it already.”

“I didn’t see it.”

“You closed your eyes and looked like you were going to throw up while I was drinking it. Quit being such a baby. It’s not that bad.” Bobby mocks back and strides into the living room. Hanbin stares after his back in disbelief.

Jinhwan and Bobby take a while to dress for class, mostly since Hanbin has to physically bound Bobby while Jinhwan grunts to wrap Bobby in every warm clothing material they own. “You should stay and sleep some more,” Jinhwan says after wrestling Bobby into a thick, heavy hoodie.

“Can’t. The two classes I have today are the ones I’m struggling with the most. Do I really have to wear this sweater? It’s clashing with my aesthetic of cool basketball player.” Bobby frowns and slaps Hanbin’s hand that tries to put another beanie on his already covered head.

Listen, Hanbin just doesn’t want their drummer to get sick and not perform Saturday night. It has nothing to do with the worry of Bobby ending up in a hospital, curled up and weak with sleepy eyes and sullen skin. At least he’s got some color back on his face, looking less sunken like he had almost died of hypothermia and more like the drain of tiredness college students are familiar with.

“I think your health is more important than class. I’m sure your professors will understand Bobby.” Jinhwan helps Bobby put on his shoes, Hanbin thinks it’s going a little overboard that they’re treating him like a five year old. “And what fucking cool basketball aesthetic are you talking about, kid? Does it involve freezing waiting for gremlin over here?”

“Hey!”

“It’s Dr. Rowe and Professor Cameron.” Bobby says deadpan. “And I already said that it was an accident! I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

“Rowe as in political science professor and full time conservative, Republican who always talks shit about Asians and thinks African Americans are the reason why the U.S economy has gone to shit? And you still haven’t explained to me why you’ve been having trouble sleeping, Bobby.”

“That’s the one. About six feet tall of racist ideology that most students have to endure even after reporting title nine on him and blonde hair the color of I hate anyone who isn’t a cis white Christian male. It’s nothing, dude. Just stress.”

Just stress? Hanbin doesn’t think that’s the truth at all.

Jinhwan gags, “Ew man. I dropped his class because he was such a dick. Professor Cameron isn’t that bad, I took him for California Government or whatever the class was called and he’s only strict about attendance. But Rowe, man fuck that guy. He hates everyone.”

“Yeah he is and he hates me because I’m always challenging everything he says. I’m pretty sure he gave me ten points off my essay because I wrote about climate change being a real fucking scientific reality that will impact humans and the planet drastically and you know what he’s like. He thinks all that stuff is conspiracy theories from liberals.” Bobby rolls his eyes and sighs with a shake of his head. “So yeah. Can’t miss class.”

They’ve finally got Bobby enveloped in fluffy clothing so he doesn’t risk being more of a hazard to himself. The thick, black polyester coat he wears belongs to Junhoe and the burgundy colored wool sweater with little sewn holes that peek with a different sweater beneath it belongs to Hanbin. A knitted scarf that Yunhyeong made for Hanbin when he was obsessed with making them is gently placed around his neck. Hanbin fixes it by carefully lifting the soft material to cover Bobby’s nose. It seems like Bobby freezing out in the California weather of winter was a weird dream he had because Bobby is so warm, cheeks a rosy red. Hanbin clears his throat. Bobby looks way too cute wearing the floppy beanie and the scarf, his eyes twinkle into an eye smile.

“Kiss?”

Hanbin widens his eyes. This is a dilemma. It’s one thing to allow Bobby to just kiss his cheek and hold his hand away from the prying eyes of his nosy friends, letting him slip into his bed and cuddle into him because he’s cold – all that is completely different to Hanbin returning that to Bobby. To initiate a kiss.

But Hanbin’s learned that around Bobby his body refuses to listen to his brain and instead he finds himself cupping Jiwon’s face – so cute and flushed a pink from the heat of the clothing – and places a tiny little kiss on his nose.

“Hanbin?” Bobby says with confusion lacing the name.

Wait was Bobby not –

It is then that Hanbin notices the very obvious finger that points to the table they’ve set up at the foyer. There are two large candles that flicker and lather their house in that sweet blueberry scent that sticks to their skin even after they’ve left. A few mail bills and coupons, flyers of local take-out restaurants are scattered over the dark wood. Jinhwan’s car keys lie innocently right next to the –

“Kisses.” Hanbin says.

A bowl of chocolate _Hershey_ kisses.

Hanbin is going to dig himself that grave and wither away into dust.

“Alright well, this is awkward,” Jinhwan’s loud, squeaky voice breaks the tense silence. Hanbin’s can’t find the will to look up and meet eyes with Bobby, he can feel his stare boring into Hanbin’s soul. Jinhwan trying to pretend like he saw nothing only makes Hanbin’s mortification escalate. “We’re going to leave now, to school. So,” Jinhwan looks between the two of them. “If you want to kiss back then hurry, kid. We’re off.”

Hanbin shuts his eyes tight, regretting the day he came back home from class and found a boy with a cropped hoodie, glimmering eyes, and the sweetest smile opening the door to his home with a lollipop between the most gorgeous lips Hanbin had ever seen – and why is he thinking of Bobby like this? Fuck you Jaewon for abandoning him, making Hanbin have these icky feelings.

Hanbin concedes that he’ll just have to avoid Bobby until Saturday when they have to perform and endure each other’s presence and like the whole catching up for a date – no, a causal hang out actually can just throw itself off a cliff and drown in the deepest parts of the Santa Monica beach. He hears the door croaking open and wind blowing into the house, Jinhwan subtly whistling his way into his car and looking back every few seconds to watch them – when Bobby unexpectedly leans in to give him a kiss.

Soft thing, really. Sweet, the smack of the peck is adorable. Hanbin doesn’t get to react since Bobby is already rushing out of the door, but he does catch the cute crescent moon shape of his eyes. His dark red curls that stick out through the terribly ugly beanie dance with the cool, heavy wind and are a contrast to the grey tint of outside.

Hanbin stays there in the foyer staring at door even after Jinhwan and Bobby are long gone.

“So how’s the drummer thing going on?”

Hanbin stares at his phone. He found Bobby’s Instagram after searching for hours through the official page of _@alienblues_ in the follower section. Then he realized how dumb he was when he clicked Bobby’s profile – unlocked and with 117 pictures of shoes (? why does he have so many shoes?), basketballs (understandable, but of the 117 he has only _one_ picture of him showing that he is a part of the official Bruin Basketball Team, seems kinda weird), and three selfies (no comment) – and saw that every single one of his friends had been following him. Not only that but Bobby is following Hanbin too.

“Hanbin? Dude? Are you listening to me?”

Might be a bit stalkerish that he’s been unlocking his phone and then locking it and repeating that every five minutes gazing at the post Bobby uploaded on _August 17, 2019_ of a picture that’s a little bit blurry and out of focus in that aesthetic way Instagram influencers like to take.

“Hanbin!”

The picture had been taken at a club. The stage lights are warm yellow tones, sweeping over the stage where the performers are playing a song it seems. He notices a familiar guitar, the edge of a double bass, and the neon sign lit in the back wall of the stage that Hanbin has been zooming in and out of.

“I’m in love with you, Hanbin.”

Hanbin almost knocks his laptop over the bed.

“Thank fuck you finally look up. Where’s the drummer?”

“Dude,” Hanbin pats his chest, his heart is thumping wildly against his lungs. “Don’t say shit like that. I was ready to accept the end of this friendship.” Jaewon gives him the middle finger. “What were you asking?”

“Drummer. How are you guys coping?”

Hanbin shrugs, “Yeah we found a guy. He’s a junior. An okay drummer.” _An annoying kid who I can’t stand sometimes but I might be a little fond of him, he plays basketball and wears cute pins plays the drums better than you. You’d like him. A lot._

Jaewon raises a brow. “That’s it?”

What do you mean?”

“Tell me more about him. What’s his name. His major. Do you have a video of him playing? How long have you had a crush on him? Is he funny? What do you–?”

“Wait on a second? Crush on him?” Hanbin’s voice cracks in a few tones higher.

Jaewon grins a little sheepishly through Skype. “Jinhwan might have mentioned it. And Junhoe. And Donghyuk. And Yunhyeong…” Jaewon’s voice becomes more of a whisper as he lists their friends.

“Fucking Jinhwan,” Hanbin mutters and rubs his face tiredly, groaning into his hands. “I do not have a crush on him. In fact, he’s infuriating. Everything he does is just to upset me. Did you know he almost fucking died yesterday waiting for me to leave my three hour lecture? Or that I was forced against my will to drink Jinhwan’s nasty green tea because he didn’t want to drink it by himself? Or that he snores and it can be kinda cute but also super freaking annoying.”

“Is he? Annoying? Because I swear I can hear fondness in your voice.” Jaewon raises his hands defensively when Hanbin glares at him. “Just saying. You kind of hate everyone that doesn’t like music and you keep avoiding talking about him.” The older boy sighs and tugs his black strands behind his ear, it sort of reminds Hanbin of Bobby. “Listen Hanbin, I’ve known you since we were babies. You’re like a brother – no, you _are_ my brother. And as your brother I know when you –”

“Hyung,” Hanbin switches to Korean. “Bobby-yah is just a drummer. The drummer for Alien Blues until you get back. That’s it.”

Jaewon sighs. “How are classes?” Hanbin can be such a stubborn little shit sometimes.

Hanbin opens his phone one last time before actually paying attention to Jaewon who he hasn’t spoken to since him and his friends were hanging out in the living room panicking over who their drummer would be. He smiles a tiny bit, gently touching his screen. The picture posted is of Hanbin up on stage with Junhoe and Jinhwan blurred out with the shaky, caught off guard shot of Bobby’s side face grinning brilliantly and facing directly where Hanbin plays the piano.

It’s like Hanbin cannot catch a break. First he humiliates himself by kissing Bobby. Then he gets his third kiss from Bobby which leaves room for the familiarity growing between them. Then Jaewon has the audacity to state that he, Kim Hanbin, has a crush on Bobby. And now Jinhwan keeps staring from his plate of fried rice and teriyaki chicken to Hanbin in what he thinks must be inconspicuous.

“So, Bobby and I were talking,” Jinhwan says, feigning nonchalance. Which means Hanbin is not going to like what he says next.

“I think the fried rice tastes better at the place next to campus then the one nearby. It’s too dry and salty.” Hanbin will pretend for as long as he can that he has no idea why Jinhwan is bringing up Bobby.

“And he mentioned something really interesting and surprising to me,”

Hanbin picks the rice up with his spoon to closely inspect it. “I think it’s overpriced too. This plate cost me ten dollars and I could have wasted seven bucks buying the meal at the other location.”

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Hanbin finally looks up to make eye contact with Jinhwan. “No.”

“Nothing?” Jinhwan further pries.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“So, like, you two didn’t sleep together?”

The sound of Hanbin choking on his soda is music to Jinhwan’s ears. Snickering as he takes another spoonful of fried rice with teriyaki chicken that doesn’t taste as bad as Hanbin’s making it out to be.

“Don’t say it like that!” Hanbin eventually says after recuperating from almost dying and Jinhwan doing nothing but laugh at him. Fuck fake friends.

“But that’s what happened. You slept together. Or did you sleep _sleep_ together?” The wiggles of eyebrows from Jinhwan is something that will haunt him for the rest of his life as the top ten cringiest moments Hanbin’s ever had to witness. Jinhwan makes up a lot of the spaces on that top ten list.

“No! What the fu– no, listen. He came into my room looking like a kicked puppy and he’d almost died waiting for me to leave class! What was I supposed to do, say no and kick him out?” When Bobby was looking at him with beady eyes and wrapped up in that fluffy blanket wearing oversized clothing that got Hanbin’s hands itchy to pocket the older boy away from all evil of the world including Jinhwan’s nosiness?

Jinhwan holds his hands up defensively, “I’m not saying anything, it’s your brain that’s insinuating it.”

“You thought we had sex!” Hanbin furiously whispers, not completely sure why since the only living beings in the dining room is Jinhwan, Hanbin, and Cookie who is oblivious to the current dilemma that Hanbin faces with Jinhwan.

“Yeah because you denied that anything happened last night between the two of you. Bobby told me he slept in your bed. With you. _Cuddled_ into you, in fact.” Jinhwan winks, Hanbin shivers. Did Bobby mention what happened after Hanbin woke up? He is praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that Jinhwan knows nothing of that endeavor.

“I can’t believe he told you,” Hanbin mumbles mostly for his own ears but Jinhwan’s magical witch powers hear even that piece of information and perks up like an excited puppy.

“I honestly have no idea why you just don’t admit it. I like Bobby. We all like Bobby. We’ve only known him for a few weeks now but he’s practically part of the group. He’s funny, super sweet. You know the other day we saw a frog hopping around and he crouched down to wave a hello at the frog and then started talking to like it was this sentient being. And it was actually a fucking frog.”

Hanbin believes that. He knows that Bobby’s the type of person to have a favorite tree on campus, the type to place a spider somewhere away from danger so he won’t kill it, talks to plants about his day, says hello to the buzzing bees and doesn’t run away in screeching fear like Hanbin and his friends. The overwhelming _fondness_ that curls in his gut and travels to twist his heart into a squeeze of cuteness is very worrying for Hanbin, he needs to see a cardiologist.

“He’s also really cool. Like cooler than all of us. We’re this indie art kid group that sometimes thinks we are better than capitalistic society but really we can seem kind of lame and Bobby’s, like, the complete opposite of lame. He plays professional basketball with the university. Have you seen him play?”

Hanbin shakes his head, then tilts his head to frown. “Have _you_?”

“Yeah. He invites us to his practice games. Doesn’t he invite you?”

 _No_. “Uh, yeah.” Hanbin says distractedly, feeling _hurt_ all of a sudden. Why is Bobby inviting his friends to practice games and leaving Hanbin in the blue about it? When were they even meeting up for these impromptu games?

“Where are you trying to get with this?” Hanbin asks. He doesn’t like where this conversation is going. He feels like he’s being attacked and invaded about his personal feelings. Hanbin’s a touchy person and likes reassurance, but try prying too much into his chaotic thoughts that Hanbin himself doesn’t even know how to separate, and it’ll just end up with Hanbin closing up like a clam.

Jinhwan sighs. He can already tell that Hanbin doesn’t like what Jinhwan is implying. He can see it in the nervous shake of his pupils, the restlessness of his hands as he plays with the spoon and then the chopsticks and then his hair.

“I just think maybe you shouldn’t think too hard around Bobby. He’s easy to get along with. No need to stress, okay?”

The conversation stays stuck in Hanbin’s mind like a loop on repeat. He feels like he’s caught between two crushing walls and the only way out is through a hallway filled with bright light that blinds Hanbin. And that bright light is metaphorically Bobby. He’s sleeping in his bed like he does all the time, Cookie’s lying on the corner of the bed sprawled out with his tongue lolling out, the moonlight and orange streetlights seep in through the cracks of the dark blinds and translucent brown curtains, his room smells like blueberries – but. But the pillows smell like lavender and Bobby. Bobby sleeps in his room once and leaves behind a lasting impression that it takes a while for Hanbin to fall into a restful sleep, wondering why his bed is so empty.

In the morning he wakes up and the sun is still just lightly shining the sky with dark red and butterscotch orange colors. He feels disorientated, like he’s still sort of dreaming when his hand travels into his shorts and he starts tugging his erection to the thought of sweet lips and gentle brown eyes. He thinks about yesterday morning, about the firmness of Bobby’s ass, the hot lips that left red marks on his neck, the hand that had been teasing his hard dick. It doesn’t take too much for him to cum in his shorts with the lingering memory of Bobby’s phantom touch. Hanbin doesn’t allow himself to think too much on what he just did beneath the covers and who exactly he was thinking about when he showers. Instead he focuses on the nervous apprehension of tomorrow in the evening.

When he opens his door, light and cool wind hitting his face and making the strawberry jam on his bagel taste even sweeter than usual, he’s elated to find that for the first time in the entire week since Sunday the sky isn’t clouded with thick, grey clouds threatening to shower all of LA and that the coldness that had been plaguing them is long gone only to leave the kiss of a cool breeze.

Hanbin’s just about to set out through the door, car keys in hand while balancing his apple juice carton and bagel in one hand, backpack straining his shoulders, when Jinhwan comes sweeping in next to him with a skip and snatches the keys from Hanbin.

“Ahh!” Hanbin almost trips into concrete and dirt, only saving himself because he hits the wall instead. “Jinhwan!”

“C’mon dude, we’re going to be late.”

“What are you going to be late for?”

“I have studying to do and I can’t do that when Cookie’s staring at me like he knows all of my deepest darkest secrets. One time I was jerking off and I had to stop because he wouldn’t stop staring at my hand. Your cat’s disturbing, Hanbin.”

“You were getting off in front of my cat!”

“You know, I read somewhere that cats only like new people when they know that they’re good for their owner. Remember how excited Cookie was when he met Bobby? It was so cute how well they were getting along.”

“Stop,” Hanbin gives him a look as he shuts the door to the car. “Cookie likes anyone who rubs his chin and gives him attention.”

“You like being cuddly and attention.” Jinhwan winks.

Hanbin wants a new best friend and a new housemate. “By the way, asshole, why are you guys telling Jaewon that I have a crush on Bobby?” Hanbin changes the subject, having the image of Bobby playing with his cat makes his stomach feel weird.

“What?” Jinhwan asks with very obvious fake surprise. “Who told you that?”

“Jaewon did. Yesterday afternoon we were skyping and he said how long have I had a crush on Bobby.”

“Dude,” Jinhwan doesn’t have to look at Hanbin to give him a side glare, he’s seriously going to smack him over the head any day now. “See! Even Jaewon who lives on the other side of the globe is catching onto how obvious you are about your heart eyes.”

“That’s because you told him!” Hanbin answers back with a full mouth. Jinhwan does turn to glare at him then, hands on the wheel as he slows down at a stoplight. “And not just you, but everyone else. When did you guys even talk?”

“Okay first of all, he asked about the new drummer and it sort of slipped out that you were drooling after Bobby’s ass.”

“Slipped out.” Hanbin echoes.

“And then Junhoe, mind you, was the one to blurt out that you have a crush on Bobby. Then it was a domino effect and everyone agreed. Except Chanwoo, but that’s only because he looks up to you too much and doesn’t want it to get back to his favorite _hyung_ that he snitched you out like that.”

“Chanwoo is the only one I trust,”

“The day that kid confirms your love about Bobby, it’s over for you.”

There isn’t much traffic leading to the university parking lot near the library since it’s a Friday and most lectures tend to stick to a Monday thru Thursday schedule. Hanbin hops out of the car, checking his phone for any new messages (like maybe Bobby texting him to meet up for that not-a-date and grab lunch thing Hanbin suggested a week ago) and feeling his heart sink a bit when it comes empty-handed except for their group chat being bombarded with Junhoe and Yunhyeong arguing over their choice of clothing for the weekend.

“Why do you keep looking at your phone? Are you waiting for a nude?”

“Bye, I have class.”

Hanbin can’t see it since he’s turned his body to walk towards the studio building but he knows without looking back that Jinhwan’s rolling his eyes and flicking him off. In lab Hanbin barely pays attention to what he’s doing on the computer. Their professor wants them to sample a song preferably one from the forties and create a melody that adheres to modern day music. Hanbin’s been clicking through the list of songs that the professor sent and playing it through the headphones while scrolling on his phone, thumb stuck to Bobby’s Instagram page. Maybe because he’s in such a vulnerable state of mind and he can’t think thoroughly Hanbin’s clicks on the little blue _follow back_ button.

He’s resolved into admitting defeat and humiliation. What a stupid idiot? Why did he ask Bobby to hang out with him? _Our date_ , Hanbin mocks himself under his breath. The two girls in front of him give him weird looks but Hanbin’s far too up his own embarrassing moments to feel any shame that he’s whining to himself. He’s resolved to never talk to Bobby again. Yes, that’s what he’s going to do, unless they have to talk about performances, Hanbin is just going to pretend like he doesn’t know Bobby. Maybe doing that will stop the way his heart burns every time he thinks of him.

Also, Hanbin’s hurt that Bobby’s been inviting his friends to his practice basketball games. That, from Jinhwan’s stories of Bobby like the frog one, Bobby and his friends have been hanging out outside of practice. He’s sitting in his three hour long lab in front of the expensive computer programs and keyboards in a sulk, tapping the keyboard with more force than necessary and writing lyrics about broken hearts. How come Bobby’s been inviting his friends and not him? Isn’t Bobby supposed to like _him_?

He’s in a terrible mood by the time he’s leaving the lab. When Jinhwan’s sitting on the steps of the building waiting for him, Hanbin completely ignores him and bypasses the older boy. He’s jealous that Jinhwan’s been getting friendly enough with Bobby, he’ll admit that. Jinhwan watches him walk away with a confused frown, struggling to get up from the steps and follow behind him.

“Slow down there, dude,” Jinhwan gasps out of breath as he catches up next to him.

The sky is a gorgeous blue and like gentle watercolors white fluffy clouds sway in the air. The sun is warm, crinkling Hanbin’s brows when he looks up to stare at the sky instead of paying attention to Jinhwan. The wind blows gently between his ears and flutters his dark brown strands into his lashes, his bangs have gotten too long and obscure his view. Hanbin ruffles into the pockets of his backpack and finds a headband, struggling to put it over his forehead so the strands won’t tickle his eyes.

“Stop worrying about the show, we’re going to be great.” Hanbin hasn’t even thought of the show since the morning, mind reeling with Jinhwan and Jaewon’s words and Bobby haunting his every thought. They pass by _Feast_ and the expensive dining hall building only serves to remind Hanbin about how Bobby hasn’t texted him. Not even an _I’m okay_. This is so weird, Hanbin is supposed to be going into panic, moody mode because of their performance and here he is instead, standing in line for a Chik-Fil-A meal with Jinhwan babbling into his ear about their outfits and staring blankly into the air wondering what Bobby is up too. _Bobby, Bobby, Bobby._

He messes up his order four times and he’s pretty sure the girl with the black braids taking his order is going to throw the cup of ice on the counter at him. What the hell is wrong with him? Hung up on some kid he finds infuriating. Hanbin practically snatches the bag of his order from the poor guy who hands it to him with a smile only for his face to drop at Hanbin’s rudeness.

“We need to stop by _Costco_ to pick up some food and drinks. Sunday Yunhyeong said he would be throwing a party at our house, we haven’t done anything together since Jaewon left so I think this will be fun. Especially since Bobby will be there.”

Hanbin’s bite of chicken sandwich becomes sour like the pickles he takes off with disgust. “Does Bobby have to be there?”

Jinhwan turns to face him with such a perplexed look, buckling his belt in and connecting his phone to the Bluetooth system of the car. “You kissed Bobby yesterday?”

“Accidentally.”

“How do you accidentally kiss someone on the nose?”

“Want me to kiss you accidentally on the nose?” He perks his lips and makes loud smacking noises as he moves over the car armrest console to kiss Jinhwan. The older boy almost slaps his sandwich out of his hand, “Gross! Ew dude, get away. I’m straight now.”  
  
“Are you saying you’re straight only so I won’t kiss you?” Hanbin asks with feigning shock.

Jinhwan slowly reverses them out of the parking lot, rolling his eyes and sticking his tongue out in repulsion. “I would rather make out with a girl then ever think about kissing you. You’re like my brother. Besides I would never break Bobby’s heart like that – hey, is that Bobby?”

Hanbin snaps his head, chicken sandwich halfway into his mouth and milkshake in hand that he was just about to take a sip from. Sure enough, rolling his skateboard on the sidewalk with red _Beats_ headphones – who the fuck is wearing headphones in public nowadays? – pulling his burgundy curls slick back is Bobby. Hanbin hasn’t seen him in one day and yet that seems to be all it takes to leave him breathless when he eyes Bobby’s choice of clothing: tight black jeans with holes on the knees and a pink hoodie with _Looney Toons_ blaring on it and a bleach jean jacket that’s a size too big for his frame.

“Bobby!” Jinhwan rolls the window and comes to a stop next to Bobby. The poor dude must be so startled that a car has parked next to him that he almost trips on his longboard, just barely catching balance to not fall and crack his pretty head open. He doesn’t even seem to be flustered that he was about to fall in front of them, picking his longboard by the tail and walking towards them casually with a bright grin, the kind that flips Hanbin’s stomach and makes hollowed dimples shadow Bobby’s cheeks.

“Hanbin, hi!” Bobby says a little breathlessly, he slips the headphones to dangle on his neck, upon closer inspection Hanbin can see little stickers of Disney characters with princesses glittering beneath the sun. Bobby tilts his head at the sandwich and milkshake in Hanbin’s hand, then he frowns a little. “Why are you eating Chik-Fil-A? They’ve donated money to anti-LGBT organizations, Hanbin I’m disappointed in you.”

Hanbin’s heart squeezes and it’s not a cute thing. He points at Jinhwan and blurts, “He bought it.”

Bobby turns his scowl to Jinhwan, lips pouting and wrinkling his lips. Jinhwan gasps horrified, eyes blaring at Hanbin like he’s just kicked Jinhwan in the stomach and he’s in physical pain. Hanbin sends him a plead through his eyes, begging through his telepathic powers for Jinhwan to go along (because hearing Bobby say he’s disappointed in Hanbin is a lot more painful than he could have ever imagined) and those magical witch powers of Jinhwan must be a real thing because Jinhwan narrows his eyes and sighs in defeat.

“I had a coupon someone gave me for a free meal, thought I should use it. No money given to them, I swear.” Smooth, Hanbin is doing Jinhwan’s laundry the whole month for saving him like that. Bobby seems to believe it though, the scowl slipping away from his bright face. He doesn’t lighten up like usual, but at least he’s not staring Hanbin down the nose.

“Well I guess that can be forgiven. No more buying from them.” And then because Hanbin is still hanging onto the _I am disappointed in you_ thread, Hanbin throws the chicken sandwich into the bag and sticks his pinky out. “Promise.” His brain goes haywire, no longer functioning and thrown into a chaotic mess of screams and red flags when Bobby grins toothily and his dimples grow into further shadows. Bobby connects their pinkies with a twinkling eye smile. Fuck, this is dangerous territory. “Where are you guys headed?”

“ _Costco_. Wanna come with us?” Jinhwan clicks the lock of the door to unlock the backseat, not even waiting for Bobby to answer. Bobby looks a bit hesitant, however, crooked tooth biting into the plump, pink bottom lip. Hanbin subconsciously follows that movement on his own lip, eyes hazy as he memorizes all of Bobby’s features. The arm that isn’t holding onto the longboard rests on the window ledge, an array of bracelets with hearts and swinging crystals. His fingers have silver rings lining up between slim and knobby, gently tapping a bored rhythm into the ledge. Hanbin has never noticed it before but there is a little blue tulip with a smiley face tattooed on his hand. It must be something new.

“Will you mind?”

Hanbin hums, looking up and away from the adorable tattoo. There was Bobby doing that again, seeking Hanbin’s approval. Brows furrowed into a worried and shy little wrinkle, from over the music that lulls in the background he can hear Bobby’s other hand playing with the wheels of the longboard.

“You’re always raiding the fridge, get in.”

Bobby sticks to Hanbin’s side when the enter the large warehouse, his hand slips between the space of his arm, making itself comfortable there. When Hanbin raises a brow and gives their arms a pointed look all Hanbin’s met with is Bobby lifting his shoulders and boyishly smiling as if saying, _what are you going to do about it?_

Nothing. Because it’s supposed to be Ignore Jiwon Hours. Jinhwan throws him nasty glares every time they make eye contact. Hanbin’s sure that the elder is purposefully filling the cart with things they don’t need just to make Hanbin’s wallet cry, but he keeps his mouth shut from yelling no when Jinhwan adds two extra boxes of the healthy chips he force feeds Hanbin sometimes. It’s a small price to pay for saving his ass otherwise he wouldn’t have Bobby cuddling into him, arm wrapped around his own in a possessive manner and pointing at every random thing that catches his eye.

An array of different types of fishes line up the ice filled chest, lifeless black beady eyes and shimmery scales staring into Hanbin. He’s picking up fillet and shrimp and placing it into the cart.

“What else should we get Bobby? You like cooking for us so you pick something out too. Hanbin’s paying for it.” Jinhwan throws him a sweet grin and a peace sign, Hanbin struggles with swallowing the _Fuck you_.

Bobby shuffles shyly, hands in his pockets. “Uh, I don’t really like seafood. Grosses me out.”

“Hanbin, what are you doing?” Jinhwan narrows his eyes leaning away from Bobby to raise his brows in question. Bobby whips around too, his hands tugging his loose curls away with a pinched look on his face.

Hanbin shrugs, “Not in the mood for fish. There’s chicken over here, let’s get that and some meat.” It isn’t like Hanbin wanted fish or shrimp or the squid to fry up with rice and kimchi. No, course not! Seafood is overrated when half of the restaurants near the coastline serve seafood. Bobby’s a few steps in front of them, picking between the variety of meat packets when Jinhwan mumbles, “You are so obvious. So obviously whipped and he doesn’t even notice it. He probably believes that you don’t love eating all that shit you just put back with rice and kimchi. Luckily for you, since I’m your best friend, I’m going to let you revel in your denial for a few more weeks. Also, you’re doing laundry for two months.”

“Two months?!”

“Want to make that three.”

“Two months it is.”

Bobby carefully organizes the cart before placing the meat packets he’s chosen. Jinhwan pulls him to the clothing section in the middle of the warehouse with mostly mothers and children and old white ladies who stare at Hanbin holding Bobby’s hand with too much of judgement (which only further makes Hanbin tug Bobby closer to him and keeps a hand splayed over his waist to piss them off). He’s holding Bobby’s hand where it curves behind his back since he’s distracted conversing with Jinhwan about which color jogger pants he should buy.

Observing the two of them reminds Hanbin of how they’re closer than he thinks. It blurts out of his mouth with no filter, but Hanbin can’t find an ounce of shame in him, only relieved that Jinhwan’s moved to a different section and can’t hear them when Hanbin tugs Bobby against his chest and the older boy turns to him puzzled.

“How come you don’t invite me to your practice games?” Hanbin’s voice is flat and hoarse. Like a disembodied voice that croaks out confessions. The embarrassment takes a while to set in, he’s sinking into the thought of Bobby hanging out with his friends and asking them to attend his practice games without Hanbin and thinking about that only makes him feel like he’s been cheated. Which is a stupid thing to think about because Hanbin and Bobby aren’t even that close to feel like he’s being cheated.

“I – I,” Bobby’s eyes slip to the grey tiles of the warehouse, hand curling his hair back. That’s when the mortification floods Hanbin. The realization that he asked that aloud in fucking _Costco_ of all places.

Hanbin winces and shuffles backwards with a flush. “Here,” he shoves a couple twenty dollar bills into Bobby’s hands. “Order us pizza, supreme both. Please.”

Thank fuck for Jinhwan, coming between them completely oblivious to the way Hanbin’s just humiliated himself. He’s never speaking to Bobby alone again, his brain flops on him and he ends up asking stupid things. What’s next? He’ll ask Bobby to kiss him properly? Bobby stands still, frozen in time with his hand behind his ear and the other one crumbling the cash. Hanbin averts his eyes, his own hand patting his left pec where he can feel his heart racing under his palm.

His mind latches onto Jinhwan’s nasally high pitch voice, it grounds him from the ringing in his ears. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing and racing, burning his ears a bright red. The songs they’ll sing tomorrow are helpful in distracting him with counting beats, the moment Jinhwan’s voice will blend in with Junhoe’s background vocals and the piano will rift a gentle song between all the loud noise. Hanbin looks up and Bobby’s gone.

“I can’t decide between the grey one or the black trackpants so here, I want both – Hanbin? Are you okay?” Jinhwan’s touch is gentle, soothing and kind. Hanbin’s hand grips the much smaller palm and squeezes it softly. He breathes slowly, concentrating in the stillness of Costco. Hanbin’s never thought much of it but he realizes then that the warehouse doesn’t play music over its speakers, it’s just the sound of people congregating inside that breaks the stillness.

“I think I’m getting cold feet.”

“Are you getting married? What cold feet are you talking about, Hanbinnie? We’ll be great tomorrow night! When have we not. Bobby’s going to be great so there’s nothing to worry about.”

That’s right, there’s _nothing_ to worry about. That’s why Hanbin acts like Bobby refusing to be anywhere near him – he even steps away from Hanbin whenever he hauls boxes of their items into the back of the SUV – is nothing to be concern about. Hanbin gulps and pretends like he doesn’t notice the gap between them, he’s not sure if it’s for the sanity of his mind or Bobby’s or a bit of both.

Their house is already occupied by the rest of the gremlins, bags of chips and packs of beer set on the table. Bobby takes his phone out from his pocket as if to call someone, maybe to pick him up. Even though Hanbin feels awkward next to him and he had falsely promised to himself that he wouldn’t talk to Bobby to pretend like he hadn’t said what he said back at the store, he still finds himself reaching out and pulling Bobby closer to whisper in his hear, “Stay.”

“Bobby, I need you to back me up here,” Yunhyeong interrupts them and pushes Hanbin away to get between them. His lips purse into annoyance when Yunhyeong wraps a hand, friendly and familiar, over Bobby’s strong shoulders. “We should wear silver accents and black clothing right? Not gold and blue, those colors are not it for the spring.”

Hanbin’s not even enjoying his pizza. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d get attacked by Jinhwan and Junhoe he’d have already snuck into the studio room away from the noise and laughter and yelling. Bobby seems to have shrugged off the awkwardness, but still isn’t curling next to him like a cat searching for warmth. Maybe that’s what burns the most for Hanbin. How casual Bobby seems to be with everyone else except him. There is always something cautious with everything he did even those confident moves of hand holding and kissing, something shy playing in an undertone in those moments.

There is no one to blame except for Hanbin. It’s not that he doesn’t like Bobby. They’d gotten on the wrong foot weeks ago, but that dislike has melted away as the days pass and he got to know Bobby a little more. It was just, Hanbin doesn’t like his normal routine of life being interrupted. Jaewon leaving them and gaining Bobby as a new drummer – as a new _friend_ who is perhaps the most head-strong person Hanbin’s ever met, put a stump in Hanbin’s everyday life.

Damn it, Hanbin’s falling too deep into his thoughts. This is supposed to be a casual Friday night for no thoughts. He takes a long sip of his beer, stuffing his mouth with another pizza slice and keeps his eyes on Bobby.

Hanbin’s heart twists in a way it shouldn’t when Bobby’s cut off giggles echo in the living room, he’s been riding the in denial train this far and feels like he’s weak when Bobby claps his hands like a seal and punches Yunhyeong’s side in bursts of laughter. Hanbin can physically feel Junhoe’s stare divert from Hanbin to Bobby like his eyeballs are a ping pong ball. Hanbin swings another gulp to avoid Junhoe and his smirking face, has to uncurl and curl his fists a few times before the next thing he swings is his fist to stop the smug look on his friends face from making Hanbin do something rash like kiss Bobby. Fuck, he’s getting tipsy if he’s already confessing stuff like this in his mind.

“Hey Bobby, my back is starting to hurt sitting on the couch,” Oh no, what are you doing Junhoe Goo? “Can we trade spots?”

Bobby looks like he’s about to agree happily but then he realizes it. The spot is next to Hanbin on the couch. And said couch isn’t that big, pretty small and old and the only way to comfortably sit in peace is by cuddling into the person next to you. Just Hanbin’s luck that he happens to be the only other person on the couch.

“Uhm. Okay.” Bobby waddles to the couch with slow steps, the opposite to the hurried treks of Junhoe who lays down on the carpet rug next to Jinhwan who is connecting their Wii U for a competitive game of _Super Mario Kart_. Bobby sinks into the couch with a sigh, his hoodie long gone and a flimsy blue tee-shirt with a small breast pocket that has a sunflower embroidered into it stretching across his broad chest. With the fiddling of Bobby’s own beer, Hanbin sees the glimpse of his tulip tattoo.

“When did you get that? I don’t remember seeing this cute thing.” Loose tongue. If Hanbin were completely sober he wouldn’t have added the _cute thing_. As it is, he’s on his third beer bottle and anything with 12% or more alcohol is a great way for Hanbin to get drunk, he’s a lightweight and he’s proud of that.

Bobby snaps out of whatever daydream he’d been floating in and looks at where Hanbin slowly rubs circles into the tinted skin. Exhibit B: A Showcase of Hanbin Kim Tipsy and Holding A Pretty Boy’s Tattooed Hand.

“Yesterday afternoon,” Has Bobby’s voice always been such a soft whisper. It’s usually a growl, with that north east accent obvious in the way he spoke instead of a California accent. Hanbin can feel himself shiver at the rough deepness. “Micah said I have a low pain tolerance and in order to prove him wrong he dared me to get a tattoo. Minho did a poking stick thingy on the skin.” He points his index finger at the smiley face tulip, the tension in his shoulders slowly relaxing.

“You mean a stick-and-poke tattoo?”

“Right! _That_ , that’s what Minho called it.” Bobby’s practically on top of Hanbin’s lap, his leg over Hanbin’s thigh as the couch sinks lower and lower because it’s a shitty sofa that can’t hold anymore weights these days.

“It’s pretty, like you.” Hanbin, without thinking (Exhibit C: A Showcase of Hanbin Kim Kissing Bobby’s Hand) lifts the hand up and presses a soft kiss into Bobby’s warm hand where the tulip grins at him. Bobby’s hand smells like baby powder which is something weird to think about since Hanbin watched Bobby stuff two pizzas in his mouth – Hanbin wonders in the drunk corners of his mind what else he can stuff his mouth with and if it’s wide enough for about three inches wide of his dic – without flinching meaning his hands must smell like the after scent of cheese. But it’s not there, just the soothing trace of baby powder.

“You should get one,” Bobby says a little out of breath. Eyes wide and sparkling in the orange lights of their ceiling. They reflect into his dark, dark eyes, specks of orange and yellow furnaces in his marble brown orbs.

“A red tulip, I want a red tulip.” Hanbin pulls Bobby closer, returning the smile. His arm wraps over the sturdy shape of Bobby’s shoulders, heavy on Bobby who wobbly grins before turning his attention to Chanwoo passing him a remote. The touch of Bobby’s warm skin, smooth and soft, between the neck and collar of the shirt burns into Hanbin’s own skin. Rubbing his thumb on the hollow of Bobby’s collarbone raises the hairs at the nape of his neck, aware of how close they are compared to earlier when it felt like an ocean separated them of awkwardness. He’s conscious of the way their thighs brush and the dip of Bobby’s collarbone that seems to tremble along with Hanbin’s heart –

“I want to play Princess Peach.”

“You always chose Peach, Jinhwan.” Donghyuk whines out. “I want to be her for once.”

“Why that whiny chick? She needs a man to save her all the time. Be an independent woman and chose my lord and savior Rosalina.”

“I’m playing Rosalina,” Bobby clicks on the character with a wink at Junhoe who looks like he’s been betrayed and left to die by his lover.

“I don’t know why you’re all arguing, you are all going to lose anyways.”

“Chanwoo, just because you go to tournaments for games like this doesn’t mean you always have to beat us.”

“Sounds like a sore loser.”

“Oh it’s on.”

The blaring 12th of Jinhwan’s character (Princess Peach because Donghyuk lost the rock-paper-scissors game) deserves to be put up at the UCLA gallery hall.

“This isn’t fair,” Jinhwan raises the remote as if to throw it at Chanwoo.

“No violence, kids.” Hanbin’s husky voice reminds them.

Jinhwan pouts, “I vote for Chanwoo to no longer play with us. He threw a banana on me and I got left behind.”

“Jinhwan, bro.” Junhoe shakes his head. “You’ve been at 12th place since we started. Just say you suck.”

“Another round so we can all watch Jinhwan lose again!”

“Wait, how do I drift?”

“Press B.”

“Press it or hold it.”

“No press,”

“I’m pressing but I crashed! No, now I’m in eighth place.”

“I said press B, you were holding it idiot.”

“Which one of you threw the blue shell!”

“Haha! Die bitch.”

“No way, Chanwoo is at fifth place.”

“I never thought I’d see the day Chanwoo was behind Jinhwan.”

“Are they always this competitive?” Bobby whispers, eyes focus on the game but his head slowly huddling under Hanbin’s chin. Hanbin watches Chanwoo’s Toad character whizzing into a harsh corner on the small silver of screen at the upper corner. They’re all cheering Jinhwan on as he goes to second place, behind Bobby who throws a squid of ink.

Hanbin curls a hand into Bobby’s frizzy curls, tugging and twisting them in his fingers. “Chanwoo beat Jinhwan four times in a row and it took Jinhwan a week to talk to him. Jaewon had to intervene.” He can feel Bobby tremble in his arms when Hanbin’s lips and hot breath ghost the shell of his ear, glittering in silver diamonds.

“Who threw the strike of lightning!”

“Me! Now die.” Junhoe’s Mario character rams straight into Donghyuk and pushes them off the wooden bridge. Bobby snorts and throws a perfect aim of a green hell to Jinhwan when Princess Peach gets a little too close to Rosalina.

“Thanks Junhoe,” Toad leads the way from fifth place to third place. It’s now tense between Bobby, Jinhwan, and Chanwoo.

“Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!” Yunhyeong cheers, getting Junhoe to join in as he appears at eighth place behind Donkey Kong.

Chanwoo throws a red shell straight at Jinhwan, bypasses Princess Peach. “Oh no fucking way, not on my watch.” Jinhwan drifts and knocks Toad into the water, drowning away into darkness. Chanwoo grits his teeth and appears back in third place.

“Bobby won already.”

“ _We are the champions my friends_ ,”

“One more round, he’s not a winner yet.”

“ _And we’ll keep on fighting till the end,_ ” Donghyuk joins along Junhoe’s booming singing voice.

Hanbin travels his hand to the wavy ends and plays with the hoops dangling on Bobby’s earlobe. “You’re going to win for me?”

“Keep breathing like that in my ear and I’ll lose,” Bobby says through his teeth. His jaw clenches and the vein on his forehead moves along with that clench. Hanbin thumbs the pulse.

“ _Dun Dun Dun Dunnnn,”_

“Ha! Passed you Jinhwan!”

“ _We are the champions! We are the champions! No time for losers because we are the champions of the world._ ”

Bobby finishes in first place, falling back against Hanbin’s chest with the sweetest smile and curving eyes. His cheeks are flushed, pink dotting his nose. Hanbin loses his way of breathing – not only because Bobby is so pretty with his glossy eyes and bright beam, but also because three other grown men all hop on top of Bobby for a celebratory hug and squish Hanbin into the never ending darkness of his sinking couch.

Bobby is whooshed away by his friends. Getting pushed into the kitchen for dessert and away from Hanbin’s touch. When Hanbin stands up with shaky legs to prep his room with the air mattress for his friends to sleep on, Jinhwan is waggling his finger with a smug smile. “You’re one sly man, Hanbin. How long do you think Bobby’s going to believe the narrative that you’re drunk?”

“I am drunk.”

“Aha, but you see that’s where the loop lies. When you’re drunk you never admit it. Therefore, you’ve been playing the role of buzzed, flirty, and touchy Hanbin so that you and Bobby will stop acting weird.”

“You noticed that?” Hanbin asks with a frown. Jinhwan’s followed him into his room, helping him accommodate the air mattress and then setting up the pump to inflate the bed.

“Noticed it,” Jinhwan mutters. “I could feel the weird tension between you two. I’m not going to ask what you said to him, but I haven’t seen him act that shy around you since you rejected his breakfast when we first practiced together. I’m glad you two have made it up, he was sitting in your lap for fuck’s sake. I really thought today would be the day.”

Hanbin opens the valve cover and removes the cap, inserting the pump into the opening. Jinhwan gets up to grab a few blankets and pillows. “I don’t know why you’re so concern about my relationship with Bobby.”

Jinhwan rolls his eyes, “Own up to it Hanbin.” Is all he says before he lets Hanbin do all the hard work.

Hanbin flips the switch of the electric air pump on, the noise drowning out whatever it was Jinhwan was saying. Hanbin is grateful for it, humming a song and making a show of how he can’t hear anything. By the time Bobby strolls into his room, shifting in place, the mattress is inflated. A purple blanket and three pillows have been thrown over it and then Jinhwan leaves with a pointed stare directed at Hanbin – which he ignores.

“Can I use your shower?”

Hanbin gulps (he was in that shower this morning thinking of Bobby and the events that took place in last morning and now Bobby’s going to be in that same shower) with a fast nod that bops his hair, slipping his headband further up his head. “Go ahead and get any clothes from the drawer.”

His heart refuses to beat normally while Hanbin tidy’s up his room. Bobby’s going to sleepover for the second day in a row, he’s going to wear Hanbin’s clothes again. This is not good for his heart. Chanwoo comes into the room with an overflowing bowl of Froot Loops and clear judgement in his eyes that glares holes into Hanbin.

“Your boyfriend beat me today. _Me_. My club won championship at San Francisco last semester and I just lost to a newbie.”

Hanbin sighs, wiggling out of his jeans and putting on light grey sweats. He shrugs his shirt off and pulls a clean hoodie over his head. “He’s not my boyfriend. And how do you know he’s not a newbie.”

“Because,” Chanwoo says with a straight face and those wide, doe eyes that feel hypnotizing, “I searched through thick and thin every student of UCLA who I had heard was a pro at Super Mario Games and Bobby’s name never came up. He won because you told him to win.” Then, like a switch, Chanwoo’s face changes and he’s smiling like a cheerful kid. Hanbin stares at him to wait for Chanwoo to chuck his bowl of cereal on Hanbin’s head, but thankfully he’s saved when he hears two knocks.

“Knock, knock. Hey loser,” Bobby smirks at Chanwoo. His lips thin into a curving smile, hand waving and fingers wiggling. Chanwoo pouts. And then when Bobby steps closer all coherent thoughts slip out of his mind. Hanbin almost chokes on his spit. Bobby’s wearing tracksuit pants that were too baggy on Hanbin, but were snug and fit Bobby’s legs like a glove. His hair, curls wet and droplets of water dripping down his temple and slipping into his ears, is tugged into a little bun and away from his face. Skin shiny with the condensation of the shower and collarbones as shimmery as ever. The elegance in Bobby’s forehead leaves Hanbin’s throat dry, his flawless skin flushing a pretty shade of pink from the hot shower.

“In honor of Bobby winning, I’m giving you the choice of choosing between _Kill Bill_ and _Wolf of Wall Street_.” Junhoe burst into Hanbin’s room with a bowl of different ice cream flavors and so much whip cream and chocolate fudge drowning in it that Hanbin can feel the cavities forming in his teeth.

Chanwoo groans, “Bobby please do not choose _Wolf of Wall Street_. I don’t want to watch Leonardo DiCaprio snorting cocaine from his wife’s asshole.”

Bobby blinks between the two of them, “You two are sleeping here?”

Junhoe tilts his head, “Hanbin’s bed is memory foam. I like sleeping in it, even if Hanbin can get too touchy. It’s a sacrifice I am willing to take.”

That forces a dark frown on Bobby’s face, “How touchy?”

Chanwoo shrugs and answers for Junhoe, cereal falling from his mouth when he says, “He just wraps you into a hug and doesn’t let you go until morning or you kick his dick.”

Hanbin slips into his bed with a wince, yeah, he doesn’t touch Chanwoo anymore because he’s concern for his poor dick falling off with another one of Chanwoo’s infamous donkey kicks. Junhoe scuffles towards the bed, stepping over Chanwoo and the air mattress but just before he sits down Hanbin opens his mouth and Exhibit D of Hanbin Kim Being Buzzed:

“Bobby’s sleeping with me.”

Junhoe looks at Bobby who is staring at Hanbin with warm eyes and an even warmer sunny smile. Then Junhoe turns his gaze to Hanbin with an elegant, sharp brow raised that reads a lot like, _I hate you and I can embarrass you in front of Bobby but I won’t because I think this is a funny situation to happen to you since I live for the mortifying moments you live through._ Oddly specific, Hanbin knows, but he’s been on the end of that stare one too many times since they were teenagers to not know what Junhoe’s saying through an expression.

Junhoe and Chanwoo turn to look at each other, Chanwoo sighing regrettably into his bowl and taking his phone out with a physical grunt. Bobby jumps into the bed, Cookie appearing from beneath the bed where he’d probably been snoozing off all day and circles the bed before plopping for another nap.

“ _Kill Bill._ I haven’t seen it.”

“Good choice,” Junhoe settles next to Chanwoo on the air mattress with a sigh and grabs the control for the television that lays atop the night desk. Chanwoo turns the light off of the room and gives Hanbin another judging stare before disappearing below the edge of the bed.

Before Hanbin flops backwards to rest in the bed, he feels Bobby’s warm hands slip under his hoodie and silently tug the hem. “What?”

Bobby looks at him under his lashes, “I want your hoodie.” The gruff edge of his voice explodes Hanbin’s heart in his chest. He’s eternally grateful for the light to be turned off so Bobby won’t notice how he turns red in the face.

“Okay,” Hanbin whispers back and slips it off again. He’s unsure of why he so readily agrees but maybe it has to do with how relax he feels, no emotions of nerves and terror gnawing at his lungs to leave without breath because tomorrow is their big day.

The cool air of the a/c makes goosebumps rise on his naked skin, bare without the hoodie. Bobby throws it over his head, little bun shaking as he fixes the collar and finally crawls under the blanket. Hanbin unfreezes himself with a blank mind, he doesn’t think he can make a comprehensible thought at the moment. Ask him what two plus four equals and Hanbin will give Bobby’s name as an answer. His body further collapses from all human functioning when Bobby is the one snuggling into his side, half of his body on top of Hanbin’s and his hand tracing the delicate black ink that spells _Nihilism_ on his left pec that crawls over his collarbone and shoulder.

Hanbin’s phone beeps twice with a message, but he’s distracted from checking it when Bobby gently says under Hanbin’s chin, “You make me nervous.”

It’s a confession. Hanbin knows when he hears the soft vulnerability. His hand, holding Bobby by the waist, squeezes soothingly.

“About what?”

Bobby shrugs, “I want to impress you, that’s why I don’t invite you to the practice games. I feel like I’ll mess up with you there.”

Hanbin doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. He’s not sure what he should say in return to that. Should he confess too and say that Hanbin messes up whenever he’s around Bobby? How Bobby makes him lose concentration when he’s making music? How Bobby is slowly becoming Hanbin’s muse? It sounds too open if he says any of those things, so when the film opens the credits to Uma Thurman, Hanbin choses to say those things with pressing a kiss to Bobby’s smooth forehead.

👽 **:**

 ** _chanwoo_** **🐒⚾** **:** _hanbin has a crush on bobby_

**_jinhwan_ ** **🐍** **:** _BAHAHAAHHAHA_


End file.
